Sticky, Like a Suction Cup
by UnCon
Summary: Eras, customs, cultures, beliefs, change over time. But the one thing that will forever remain constant is the feeling you get after finding the one person that makes your heart fall out of your chest and realizing you can't have them. Tony should have realized from day one that Steve was too good to be true... too good for him, anyways. [AU, M/M, Romantic with a hint of humor]
1. Between Me and My Mind

**Hello everyone, I hope you enjoy this story. Before we begin here are the warnings and disclaimers. This will be rated M for a reason (M/M), I'll give a small warning at the beginning of chapters that have "Rated M" scenes (nothing too graphic) also, I DON'T own Marvel or any of the characters depicted here (unless they are mine). This is simply for creative purposes and I do not monetize. Thank you, again, and I hope you enjoy!**

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"This back-breaking work will be the death of me." Tony complained with that same exasperated tone of voice he employed when that particular time of the day rolled around.

"You say that every day, don't you get tired of repetition?" Clint replied stopping to take a breath after pushing a giant box into a corner. They were currently doing inventory at the factory and the 'done' pile had to be returned to the room it had originally come from.

"Ironic, seeing as all we do each day is repetitive." Tony replied, leaning against the wall to take a small break. He removed his leather gloves and rubbed a hand down his face then ruffled his hair, noticing how sweaty he'd gotten over the past ten minutes.

"At least we're getting paid… and we're not out there, you know—in the war." Clint reminded Tony. The smaller man sighed, acquiescing. "I guess you're right, but 20th century Industrial America isn't any easier to deal with either." Tony said.

"Amen, now stop lounging and help me haul these boxes in here."

ooOOoo

"Did you hear about the new guy Fury hired today? Heard he was a total klutz." Clint whispered conspiratorially as he sat down to eat lunch with Tony. They were in the middle of the little room they reserved for the employees, where they could eat their food, smoke, play some cards, or take a break when the strain of the work was overwhelming.

"Yeah, I heard. You think he'll last more than a day?" Tony whispered back, simultaneously taking a bite out of his tuna sandwich.

"I don't know, he's surely built for the job though." Clint said removing his own sandwich from the paper bag. "You saw him?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Just for a second while Fury was introducing him to the different areas of the factory. Big, blonde, pretty boy. Looks like he belongs in the cover of some magazine or something. I wonder what ails him." Clint mused aloud as he wolfed down his lunch.

"Why do you say that?" Tony asked, chewing his food contemplatively.

"Well, a man like that should be out fighting the world's war, not cooped up in here with us cripples." Clint said matter-of-factly.

"Hey, we ain't no cripples." Tony chastised.

"Oh yeah, you have a broken heart and I'm practically deaf, what do you think that makes us?" Clint asked condescendingly.

"At least we can use our body; the real cripples are cooped up in the hospital with missing limbs." Tony said, uncharacteristically optimistic. He hated seeing his normally bright friend in the dumps, though, especially when they were so close to 'quittin' time.'

"Pfft, whatever. It doesn't matter—we're here right? You gonna finish that sandwich or what, we have three more hours of 'back-breaking' labor to endure. And tonight, I have a special surprise for you." Clint said, his entire mood shifting with the news.

"Oh, I hate when you say that. It normally ends us up in some trouble." Tony groaned, handing his half-eaten sandwich to Clint, who took it eagerly.

"No, no, no. This time it'll be good, I promise." Clint assured.

"That's what you said last time, and we ended up spending a night in the cell. Be glad I have great bargaining skills." Tony reminded.

"Not great enough." Clint murmured.

"What was that?" Tony asked.

"Nothing, nothing. Let's get back to work."

ooOOoo

Tony and Clint returned to their boxes; two hours later there was a small group meeting consisting of all the boys on the floor, their supervisor, and Nick Fury.

"What do you think he wants?" Clint whispered. "Shh, I'm trying to hear." Tony replied.

"As you may all know, we have a new member in our team. Most of you have seen him today… he's a little rusty but I believe we can help in that department. I know you all have responsibilities to take care of outside of work, but I would appreciate it very much it one of you would volunteer your time to help our new addition." Fury said. As soon as those words escaped his lips, most of the people shuffled and looked around to stare at anything but him. They had seen the new guy in action; he was a total mess and absolutely lost in all things mechanic.

"Tony volunteers!" Clint shouted above the crowd. "What? No! Clint-

"What was that?" Fury asked looking at them both directly.

"I said Tony volunteers; you know he's more than willing to help." Clint said, his grin reaching the tip of his temple, it was so large.

"Is that the case Mr. Stark?" Fury asked with a raised eyebrow. How could Tony decline now, he was put on the spot and all his team-members were looking at him quite pleadingly. I mean, how bad can this guy _really_ be?

"Sure…" Tony replied unconvincingly.

"Wonderful, then it's decided, you will be Steve's mentor until he gets the hang of things." Fury said contently. Meanwhile, Clint slapped Tony in the back and tried to keep back his laughter.

"You owe me one." Tony whispered angrily to Clint as he followed Fury to where the rookie sat waiting.

"I gotta warn you about something before you meet him Stark. Steve's a bit… crippled, nothing too noticeable at first but he was caught in an explosion and his left arm suffered the most damages. It's out of bandages, but it will probably take a long time for it to truly heal. I need you to be patient with him, he's the son of a good friend of mine and I promised him some work so he wouldn't feel useless." Fury summarized as they walked through the long production lines.

"That's fine by me; I'm not biased to a little injury." Tony replied. He couldn't care less if the guy had a gaping hole where his mouth used to be, he was here to do a job; a little deformity wasn't gonna stop him from doing just that.

"It makes me very happy to hear you say that, we've lost so many men to the war already. I don't know how I'm gonna replace all those empty spots." Fury said off-handedly.

"You said his name was Steve?" Tony asked for clarification, he'd have a talk with Clint about this later.

"Yes, Steve Rogers." That was the last they spoke before they entered Fury's office. This was the second time in two years that Tony stepped foot into that room, and the first was to get the job.

"Mr. Fury sir, I'm so sorry about the part-

Steve stopped talking immediately after he noticed that Fury was accompanied by someone. Out of curtesy, he stretched his hand out to introduce himself. Tony on the other hand was left speechless. He wished (for the millionth time in his short life) that this _sin_ would be taken from him. This feeling he'd been carrying around since late into his childhood. It made him notice things about his fellow men that would be a one way ticket to jail and, though he was not an overly religious man, to hell as well. But he couldn't help the slight increase in his palpitations when he touched Steve's hand.

In that moment, Tony decided to dislike Steve. It would be safer for the both of them (safer for Tony) if he kept a distance, put up a barrier until these feelings went away—they always did in the past.

"Tony Stark. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." Tony said with forced nonchalance.

"Great, now that we've gotten names out of the way—Steve, Tony will be your mentor until you can get your bearings around here." Fury said, his one good eye travelling between Steve and Tony daring them to disagree.

"Does this have to do with the part I broke? I'm sorry, I truly am. There's no need for you to drag this good fellow into my problems. You should just get rid of me and find a suitable replacement." Steve said, looking over at Tony apologetically.

"Nonsense, all you need is friend to help you out. Tony here is more than willing to be that friend. That's the last I hear about you quitting. Now go, you're wasting precious daylight." Fury ordered, sitting behind his desk and grabbing a cigar.

As they made their way out of Fury's office and down the stairs, Steve tried to communicate with Tony, explain his intentions. But Tony was having none of it.

"Enough, alright? You were given a job and you're either gonna do it, or march back into Fury's office and resign. I can't stand indecisive people." Tony snapped once they landed on the bottom floor.

"I'm sorry." Steve said quickly, then a little calmly "I haven't really held a job before; I was put in the army as soon as the war started, all I really know how to do is hold a gun and shoot at whoever I'm told to shoot. This civil work is not something I'm used to."

"There's nothing 'civil' about packing parts and putting them together to make a car, it's just a job. Now we can both stand here and have a pity-party of what was, or you can come with me so you can learn your stuff and I can return to _my_ job. Because, unlike you, I don't have job-security." Tony said, probably a little too harshly. It was Steve's first day after all, just because _he_ was feeling a certain way, didn't mean he had to take it all out on the poor guy.

Unfortunately, that's what transpired the remainder of the day. Any slight mistake, as minimal as it might be, ticked Tony off (more than it should have) and he would reprimand the life out of the new employee. The others even took a break to observe Tony's dictatoresque attitude toward Steve; the poor blonde could only do as he was told with a shut lip and strong determination to prove he could do well.

"It's like you were born with no sense of coordination whatsoever, I'm surprised not more of you was caught in the explosion." Tony said offhandedly, completely ignoring the fact that he just struck the largest nerve in Steve's body.

The blonde dropped the hammer that was currently in his hand and turned to look at Tony directly in the eye. The brunette actually gulped when he felt the full force of Steve's stare. The others also stopped to gawk at the sudden silence.

"My best-friend _died_ in that explosion, he's the reason I'm alive today. I thank god _every day_ for this mangled arm, because it could have been him scooping pieces of me out of his uniform instead of the other way around." Steve said through clenched teeth. Tony, at least, had the decency to look ashamed.

"I'm sorry, I crossed the line." Tony murmured, he was the first to break eye-contact as he hung his head.

Steve huffed and leaned down to pick up the hammer and resumed his work. They didn't speak for the remainder of their shift and Tony couldn't wait to leave the damn place. He really made that other guy upset, better for Tony—at least he won't feel as attracted to him if he knows Steve doesn't like him.

ooOOoo

"Man, that's awful." Clint said as they were walking home and Tony relayed the story back to him.

"Yes, I know, I feel like total jackass. I made a fool out of myself on floor 1 and the poor guy didn't even deserve it." Tony replied, tucking his hands in his jacket pocket, it was the middle of August in New York, and it was starting to get cold. 1919 could not come soon enough.

"Alright, alright, let's forget about it tonight. I did say I had a surprise for you and since I _do_ owe you one…" Clint trailed off as he dragged Tony into the nearest alley.

"Oh no, Clint, not another one of your sleazy bars!" Tony groaned as they circled around the strange and dark pathways.

"A-ha, but this is a _special_ bar, you'll see when we get there." Clint said cryptically. It was a series of long alley-ways and stairs before they made it to their destination; it was a good thing Tony had an eidetic memory because if it weren't for that, he would be trying to make an escape.

As soon as they stepped inside the place, he could smell the alcohol, smoke, and bad decisions.

"Where have you taken me this time?" Tony asked, a little bit appalled by the sheer volume of people in public displays of affection.

"Oh, just you wait!" Clint said, excited out of his socks. They snaked their way through the main room, Tony being unwillingly dragged into the back part where he presumed the 'surprise' lay.

"Ta-da!" Clint exclaimed as he revealed the second room. Everywhere, there were girls in small clothing and men (married, mind you) lip-locked with these females that were very obviously not their wives.

"You brought me to a _brothel_?" Tony asked, a little on the disgusted side.

"Yeah, when was the last time you let loose and had your way with a pretty little thing?" Clint asked eyeing the pretty ladies.

"I don't know, I can't remember." Probably because he'd never done anything with any _female_ or anyone for that matter; unless you counted himself.

"See, and that's your problem right there. No wonder you were snapping at that rookie today, you're wound up my dear friend. You need to release your inhibitions, don't worry, I won't tell Fury if you get a little _too_ loose." Clint winked. Tony didn't know how to turn down his offer; Clint was probably being a good friend (while at the same time benefiting from this outing). But at the same time Tony couldn't go through with this. He didn't like this, he didn't like _girls_ ; he could accept that much of himself. Plenty of men didn't like girls; they only wed because they had to. Tony was fortunate enough to have no lineage to pass on, no legacy to uphold, so he simply lived, (contently) by himself. And if some day he looked twice at a man—well, that was between him and his mind.

Just the mention of Steve alone reminded him of that fact.

But, regardless, he was being dragged into the room and thrown on a chair while girls draped themselves over the both of them.

"See Tony, it's not so difficult." Clint said, rubbing noses with one of the hostesses.

Tony couldn't reply, he was hot and cold at the same time. He wasn't quite sure where he should put his hands (and he was definitely not gonna put them on _her_ ). He kept looking for a way out, a way to tell his friend that he was not comfortable here, but Clint was too preoccupied.

It became too much when the girl started to fondle him; he shot up immediately and started walking back to the entrance.

"Tony, where ya' going! You're gonna miss the surprise!" Clint called out, but Tony kept walking—kept walking until he was back in the alley and he could take a deep breath of the rancid air. He didn't wait to see if his friend would come to look for him, Clint could find his way home alone.

Once he made it back to the entrance of the first alley he looked for the keys in his pocket, he then remembered he had left them in his locker when he was changing coats.

Tony sighed and made the return walk to the factory.

He was surprised to see that one of the production lines was still lit. That meant that someone had stayed overtime.

Tony walked quietly to the entrance and was shocked to find none other than Steve working on a piece of machinery that would later go to the assembly line and into a car. He had the tools laid out in front of him and the instructions written on the opposite wall, but he looked like he was struggling, if the angry jerky movements were any indication.

Tony watched for a little longer, he allowed himself the simple pleasure to observe the man from afar. That's what he used to do in his schoolboy days, when he realized it was inappropriate to ogle people.

Clint hadn't been kidding when he mentioned that the man was built for war, he had fine-tuned muscles that spoke of years of exercise and dedication. Tony's muscles were of consequence, the line of work he had chosen was very taxing if one was unfit, but Steve's were of pure determination.

Tony gripped the wall as he noticed how the muscles in Steve's back would flex and bulge as he screwed and unscrewed the bolts to the machine. Tony had only ever wanted to touch a handful of men in his lifetime, but right this moment it was all he could do to keep himself in check.

Tony decided to stop staring and actually help the struggling man.

He cleared his throat, startling Steve, and sauntered his way over to where he was standing.

"Having a little trouble there?" Tony teased, smiling at the former army-man.

"How long have you been watching?" Steve sighed, defeated. He laid the tool back down on the platform and looked down at the machine and pondering his failure.

"Long enough to know that you have no clue what you are doing." Tony said taking off his jacket and putting it aside.

"You don't have to do that." Steve said quickly.

"But I do… I'm sorry about today, I was in a dark place and didn't know how to handle whatever I was feeling, I took it out on you and that was wrong. I hope we can move past this and into a more friendly territory." Tony said giving Steve a small smile. That did the trick; the blonde let out a blinding grin and nodded animatedly, stunning Tony momentarily.

"I'm glad we can put all that ugliness behind us, I've been meaning to apologize too. When you said that about the explosion… it was a very personal subject and… it's been a couple of months now but it feels just as fresh every time I think about it." Steve said sadly, unconsciously clutching his left arm.

"I understand, I'll think a little more before I say something so insensitive." Tony promised, holding out his hand as if to say 'truce?' Steve accepted it graciously and nodded in acquiescence.

"Great, now where were we?" Tony asked.

For the next hour, Tony gave Steve as detailed an explanation as he could of all the parts on the production line and where they went, how they fit, what tools to use, and how to work quickly yet efficiently.

"Just a little tighter—there you go. See? Now you know everything you need to know for this part of the processing line. If Fury decides to send you to the packaging line—that's where I stay—then I'll instruct you in that area as well." Tony said earnestly. "Also, as an afterthought, if you ever need anything you can come to me as well."

"Thank you Mr. Stark." Steve replied, tipping his head in acknowledgment.

"No problem Mr. Rogers." Tony replied in the same tone.

"Does this factory, by any chance, have a locker room with some showers? I brought a change of clothes in anticipation for the work, but I was hoping to get home before I truly needed them." Steve asked, putting away the tools and parts.

"Yeas, uh, I can show you were that is—i-if you want." Tony said, embarrassed by his stutter. "I have to go there anyways since I left something in my coat pocket."

"Wonderful, just let me get my bag from the car." Steve said.

"You have your own car?" Tony asked, impressed. He, personally, only had enough money to keep himself fed, clothed, and occasionally purchase a new blouse.

"Yes, it was a birthday present from my father; he's a General in the army so he was able to get his hands on some of the prototypes. He made sure they removed the 'added features' and gave me just a simplified version." Steve said as they made their way to the car. There it was, shiny and black in the dim light of the night.

"Impressive, my father used to tinker with cars before he died, he would resurrect them from the junkyard and then dismantle them for scrap." Tony recalled fondly. It was one of the few times he could have some fun with his father.

"How did he pass?" Steve asked gently, as he closed the door to the car and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Pneumonia, he had been working late one winter and… it's been years now, my mother had died during her second childbirth so I only knew her for a handful of years." Tony said, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to bring up something as personal as the death of his parents.

"I'm sorry." Steve said, and Tony could feel the sincerity behind those words.

"It's okay, better not to dwell too much in the past." Tony said, trying (and failing) to sound cheerful.

"That's correct." Steve said, opening the door to Floor 1 for Tony.

Tony, in turn, led Steve into the locker room.

"The showers are just in there." Tony pointed, going over to his locker to retrieve his keys. He could live with being a little filthy until he got home.

He immediately stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of Steve stripping.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, his pitch had increased alongside his breathing. He hoped Steve wouldn't notice.

"Sorry, I forgot—when you're in the army you don't have much choice but to break down those privacy barriers. You get exposed to a lot of, uh, _flesh_ you weren't ready to see." Steve said slowing his movements.

"No… I understand, just, er, wasn't ready for it I suppose." Tony tried to diffuse the awkwardness by smiling but it turned out to be more of a grimace than anything.

As Tony walked away, Steve stopped him in his tracks with these words. "Aren't you gonna take a shower?"

"I can wait 'til I get home." Tony said quickly, he tried to make another getaway but Steve stopped him again.

"Nonsense, you'll be too tired when you get home, better get it out of the way now." Steve said.

"I don't know…" Tony said, slowly turning back around. "I'll drive you back home." Steve offered, sweetening the pot.

Tony sighed and returned to his locker.

He was a bit more modest than Steve when it came to nudity. To preserve the little dignity he had left, he wrapped a towel around himself, until he reached the showers, where he could pull a curtain and get some semblance of privacy.

"So, how long have you worked here?" Steve asked as soon as the water started flowing. Tony found it very difficult to form words, knowing that the object of his current affection was separated only by a brick wall.

"About two years, it will be three in January." Tony managed to reply. He lathered his overheated body and tried to think boring thoughts, mundane, repetitive, non- _Steve_ thoughts.

"Did you ever consider joining the army when the war started?" Steve asked curiously.

"I did, but I have a heart condition that prevents me from doing too strenuous works, it's the reason I'm in packaging and not assembly." Tony replied.

"Sorry to hear that." Steve said. "There's nothing you, or anyone for that matter, can do about it, so let's just leave it at that." Tony said testily, he hated people's pity; he could sleep better without it.

The rest of the shower was taken in silence. Soon after, the two returned to the locker room and as Steve dressed, Tony snuck a glance (or three) feeling like the degenerate man he was for doing it. He shouldn't take advantage of another man's openness, he shouldn't even be thinking about another man in that manner. But we've already established that it is quite difficult for him to undo that part of himself.

Once they were both outside, Tony looked uncomfortable. He stared at the car as if it would eat him whole.

"You know, it's a great thing you're doing here, but you don't have to. I'm perfectly capable of walking home." Tony said nervously.

Steve held the passenger door open nonetheless, somehow knowing that Tony would climb in regardless of his qualms.

The drive home consisted of the few occasional grunts of instructions Tony gave Steve as form of direction to his home.

"Here we are." Steve said to Tony, as the brunette practically launched himself out of the car. It was difficult keeping up the façade of nonchalance when he was inches apart from Steve.

"Thank you very much Mr. Rogers, I'll see you tomorrow at work." Tony said as a way of goodbye.

"Goodnight Mr. Stark." Steve said to Tony's retreating back. If his eyes, before he drove away, lingered a little too long on the slight curve of Tony's hips and the way his pants wrapped around his hind-quarters, well—that was between him and his mind.

* * *

 **A/N: So, how was it? I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment or review if you wish to see something improved or have any criticisms. Thanks you for reading!**


	2. Don't Hate Me For This

**Thank you for the kind words I've been receiving lately and for all of those who are watching and waiting patiently. I appreciate you guys!**

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At three o'clock the next morning, Tony was awoken by the loud and uncoordinated thuds of his best-friend's footsteps. Clint was home, and he was drunk.

Tony stretched and yawned before going into the living room and fetching his friend.

"I don't even know how you make it home sometimes." Tony chastised.

"I got the- _hic_ -senses of a _hawk_." Clint slurred, practically falling over Tony as the brunette guided the blonde to their shared bedroom. Clint plopped himself on his bed and sighed contently.

"Are you just gonna remain in your work clothes?" Tony asked skeptically.

"You gonna strip me?" Clint teased in return.

"No."

"Then yes, now go back to bed- _hic-_ we have work tomorrow." Clint tried to sound serious but his speech was too garbled.

"You're the one who woke me up, jackass." Tony reminded, but Clint was too far gone to reply.

Tony tried to fall back asleep, it had been hard enough the first time but now it seemed nearly impossible. This is why he hated having a crush; it became all-encompassing and destructive. It made him act strange and irrational.

But he managed to get a couple of hours of shuteye before the blasted alarm clock rang.

Tony looked over at his friend who had remained in the exact same position throughout the night, and shook his head. He was able to get ready, eat something, and read the morning news before he noticed that Clint still hadn't made a move to wake up.

Tony walked into their room and tried to shake the blonde awake.

"Lemme 'lone." Clint grunted and curled up into a tight ball.

"It's not my fault your head's in pins 'n needles right now." Tony said.

"Yeah, but your voice ain't helpin' neither." Clint murmured into his pillow.

"See you at work Clint." Tony said, shaking his head again and sighing. Why he kept up with his friend's antics surprised him.

Tony shuddered in his jacket as the cold August air hit him, then another shudder passed through him as he realized who was standing by the black car across from his apartment building.

"Good morning?" Tony asked, confused by Steve's presence.

"Morning, cold day huh?" Steve replied brightly, he looked unfazed by the cold, however.

"Yeah… um, what are you doing here, if you don't mind me asking?" Tony said, looking around the street to see if anyone found this as strange as he did, the passersby just continued their early-morning walk to their destination—ignoring them completely.

"I thought, since we are going in the same direction, that I could do you a kindness and drive you to work—especially since it's so cold." Steve replied sincerely. There was something else in his smile though, something that tugged at Tony's instincts and made him hot all over.

"I've walked in colder." Tony said, trying to let Steve down but not sound as if he didn't appreciated the courtesy.

"You don't have to today, I can drive you." Steve said opening the door, just like he had last night. "You know I'm only going to insist." Steve said, motioning to the entrance of the passenger's side.

Tony sighed, relenting again. Was this going to become routine? He hoped that, for the sake of his sanity and freedom, it would not.

"Do you treat all your fellow gentlemen this well?" Tony inquired curiously. He was playing with his fingers to preoccupy his mind.

"Only the one's I like." Steve replied suavely. From the corner of his eye he noticed how nervous Tony looked. He noted the slight tremors that would course through his hands, the way he would unconsciously bite his lip, and the way he held himself—as if Steve would pounce at any moment.

"That's reassuring, we still haven't established if you liked me or not." Tony said sarcastically. His entire body stiffening as he heard Steve chuckle.

"Yes, it's true that I'm still a little miffed about yesterday, but I vowed to put that behind me. You weren't thinking properly." Steve said, parking smoothly into the same spot as yesterday. When most of the working-class population couldn't afford a vehicle, the parking spots were _always_ available.

"Here we are." Steve said, echoing his statement from last night; this time, however, Tony exited out of the car more civilly. He _was_ at work early after all.

"I appreciate the kindness; there is no need for it to be repeated." Tony said as they walked into the large building.

"Cutting my feathers before I've begun to fly, Stark? I don't think so, I promise to pick you up each morning at—Steve looked at his watch—6:30AM in order for us to get here at 7:00AM." Steve said a playful smile on his lips.

Tony rolled his eyes at the statement. He would believe that when he saw it.

ooOOoo

Clint came in huffing and puffing, barely making the clock, as he put in his time. Tony saw this from a distance and started laughing like a maniac.

"Yeah, yeah laugh all you want." Clint said, angrily pulling on his gloves. "Why didn't you wake me up?" Clint accused, picking up the parts and putting them in the packaging box.

"I did, you told me to leave you alone." Tony reminded, putting his own parts in the box.

"Why didn't you wake me up _harder_?" Clint asked again, his red cheeks exemplifying how hard he had to run to get here on time.

"It's not my job to babysit you; if you wanted that you should have stayed with your mother—or a baby." Tony joked, Clint (at the moment) didn't find that too amusing.

"Ha, ha. Just make sure I _stay_ awake next time. How'd you get here so early anyways?" Clint asked curiously, his anger dying down a bit as the routine of the work calmed his mind. He had noticed Tony's punch card and the time he arrived was much earlier than it would have been if he had walked their normal route.

"I, uh, powerwalked." Tony lied. Normally, he was a very skillful liar—when he was young his mother always found that upsetting—but at this present moment in time he couldn't draw on that power and work it effectively.

" _Powerwalked?_ Is that even a word?" Clint asked skeptically.

"Yes." Tony said, thankful that his friend wasn't all that bright to dig a little deeper.

"Heads-up, here comes blondie. You gonna chew him out again?" Clint said, a mischievous grin blooming on his face.

Before Tony could explain that he and Steve were on speaking terms and that the water was under the bridge, where yesterday was concerned, Steve was already next to him.

"You said that if I needed help I should come to you, I can't—for the life of me—find another one of these parts." Steve said holding up a large bolt.

"Tony, you gonna introduce me to your little friend?" Clint asked, the grin never escaping his face.

"Not right now Clint." Tony said. He turned to Steve and waited for the blonde to drop the bolt in his hand. Tony examined the piece and thought about where he had seen it last.

"Clint, didn't we put some bolts of this diameter away yesterday?" Tony asked, letting Clint examine the piece.

"Yeah, should be in one of those boxes, if the crew after us labeled them properly you should be able to find it no problem." Clint said.

As Tony started walking away Clint stopped him with his hand. "You gonna leave me here while I do both our work?" Clint asked incredulously.

"Think of it as reparations for slacking off this morning." Tony said pushing Clint's arm away and leading Steve into the storage room.

"You two seem close, is he your friend?" Steve queried as they maneuvered past the boxes of spare parts.

"Yeah, like a brother to me really." Tony refrained from saying how Clint was an orphan and his father (after so recently losing his wife and newborn) adopted him at an early age. It wasn't his story to tell, especially to someone he knew so little about; though the joke here is that he could tell Steve everything about _himself,_ no problem.

"I could see that, why didn't he walk down with you?" Steve asked. Tony noticed how unnecessarily close Steve was standing, the isle space was big enough for the both of them—he shouldn't feel the need to breathe down Tony's neck with every word he uttered.

"He overslept, went to a club last night and 'released his inhibitions.'" Tony replied, not supplying any more information than he needed to.

"Bucky was like that too." Steve said a happy yet sad tone taking over his voice; Tony turned to look at him and asked: "Bucky?"

"Yes, my best-friend; whenever we were on leave, he'd find a liquor store and raid it for what it was worth. I was never much of the drinking type, never will be really, but he enjoyed the sport and I wasn't about to stop him from doing something what made him happy." Steve said, Tony noted how lost in thought the blonde was. His body was here but his voice and eyes were incredibly far away.

"I'm sorry, again." Tony murmured. When had they gotten so personal? Their bodies were almost touching and their faces were just a little too close.

"It's over now, I can't bring him back and war still rages on. So let's find this bolt, shall we?" Steve said, forced cheerfulness overtaking his voice.

Tony nodded.

It probably took longer than it should have for them to retrieve the bolt. It was buried beneath boxes of other supplies and Steve had a hard time lifting the boxes with his mangled arm. Tony insisted on helping but Steve was adamant about doing it himself.

Eventually they found the box with the bolts. As they walked away with the box, the foundation of one of the many pillars began to give way.

"Watch out!" Steve shouted to Tony as the pillar fell, he dropped the box and pushed the brunette out of the way, knocking them both to the ground and shielding Tony with his body as the boxed supplies and many other things fell around them.

There was a brief, standalone second where it was just Steve and Tony, the moment Tony looked up into Steve's blue eyes was the moment he knew he'd be lost in them forever. They were so _close_ it was painful, Tony tried to prevent the inevitable but his body was urging him on. However, that moment in time was snatched up and torn as the many people rushed in to investigate the noise.

"You guys alright?" That was Clint.

Steve looked Tony up and down and asked, "You okay?" Tony nodded, speechless.

"Yeah, we're alright." Steve replied helping himself and Tony up from the rubble.

"What the hell happened here?" Clint said, trying to navigate through the boxes to get to his best-friend.

"Something gave way and this column fell." Steve said, speaking for the both of them since Tony was still in shock; it wasn't because of the near-death experience either—thought that did play a part in it.

"I see, I told Fury that putting things this heavy into boxes like these wouldn't help." Clint said. "I'm half-deaf and I _still_ heard that clutter, this is gonna take forever to clean up." Clint sighed looking around the room and at the mess, then up at his friend.

"You okay Tones; you look as if you've seen a ghost." Clint asked worriedly.

"No, I'm fine, just… shocked that's all." Tony said his entire body feeling as if it belonged to someone else.

"Yeah, you're in shock alright, let's get you out of here." Clint said. "Muscle boy, go tell Fury about this. We'll be waiting here." Clint ordered as an afterthought.

"Right away." Steve said a little reluctantly, he kept looking back at Tony's frozen form. He'd have to remedy that later.

ooOOoo

" _What!?_ " Fury exclaimed, almost chocking on his cigar.

"The boxes toppled over, we were trapped in the rubble, now there's a huge mess-

"I heard you the first time damn it!" Fury exclaimed shaking his head vehemently.

"Please don't punish Mr. Stark sir, this was entirely my fault." Steve pleaded with Fury. The director looked at him quizzically, and then sighed.

"Seeing as this little incident couldn't be helped either way, I pardon the both of you. However, I need that room cleaned up and those boxes back where they belong. I'll figure out a better packaging system later." Fury said, when he noticed Steve still hadn't budged he asked, "Is there something _else_ you needed?"

"Mr. Stark mentioned something about a job security, is my father putting you up for this—I know the two of you are close." Steve questioned seriously.

"He asked me to do him a favor and I obliged, he saved my life and I'll never forget that. So if you're asking me if I would have hired you otherwise, the answer is no. Now get out of my office. You've caused enough trouble already." Fury said, dismissing Steve with one swipe of the hand.

The blonde took a deep breath and massaged his left arm. In moments of intense stress it would pulse and sharp pangs of pain would shoot through its entire length. He shook his head and tried to ignore what Fury said, he was making tremendous progress for his second day. Except for this little accident, he hadn't missed a beat.

Steve returned to Tony and Clint. The two were now sitting on one of the many benches about the place, Tony held a cup in his hands; it was probably water or something warm. He looked much better now that the scare had worn off.

"Fury says we have to clean it up, he won't fire us though." Steve said as a form of greeting.

"Like he would fire you." Tony murmured loud enough for Steve to hear. He decided to let that slide; considering all they had been through in this short amount of time—that remark meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Clint shook his head and patted Tony in the back. "I'm not part of this, so good luck. Hopefully—for your sake—not a lot of things spilled out onto the floor."

"Do you need another minute?" Steve asked gently.

"I'm not a fucking girl Steve. I'm fine, thank you very much." Tony hissed and threw his cup at Steve angrily.

Water then.

ooOOoo

It took them the rest of the shift, and then some, to put the parts in their appropriate boxes and the boxes in their respective places. The entire time, Tony gave Steve the evil-eye and avoided any conversation. His entire body was poised to strike and he couldn't wait to finish this chore so he could go home and forget today ever happened.

Back in the lockers, the last few people were trickling out as the two of them went in.

"Are you not taking a shower after spending so much time with those greasy parts?" Steve asked, mimicking his speech from yesterday.

"I'm good, thanks. What's your fascination with showers anyways—I do have a tub in my home." Tony snapped, angrily pulling his belongings from his locker.

"Won't you at least let me take you home?" Steve asked hopefully.

"What part of 'I'm good' don't you understand?" Tony said hotly, using everything in his power to not shout.

"I just want to make sure you're okay, you were pretty shaken up after the boxes fell." Steve said, his head hanging low.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a girl? I don't know where you got that idea from but, you need to forget it. I'm fine now, and I'm going home to _take a shower_." Tony said trying to move past the unmovable block that was Steve's body.

"Don't hate me for this." Steve begged as he pinned Tony to the lockers and kissed him, feverishly and passionately. It was obvious that neither of them had had much experience kissing (none at all to be exact) but it didn't take long for both of them to guess how their mouths worked.

Tony was the first to come to his senses. His entire body felt electrified and his brain fried, but he didn't understand why this was happening, was Steve playing a cruel joke on him?

So he did what any terrified animal would do, he fled. But not before making sure his point was made.

"Steve, what the _fuck_ are you doing?!" Tony practically squealed, his eyes filled with fear as he noticed how badly this could have ended, forget his job, jail would be the best option; he'd be thankful if they didn't hang him for this.

Steve was stunned into silence, his entire body frozen in place by Tony's shrill tone.

"Let me go, now!" Tony shrieked pulling his wrists free from Steve's constraints.

"I'm-

"Stay away from me!" Tony warned, getting his belongings once more from the locker. "Don't you ever put your hands on me again, or I won't hesitate to call the police. No matter who your father is!" Tony threatened with his finger.

He bolted from the locker room and didn't stop looking over his shoulder until he reached the safety of his room.

Clint wasn't there so he was probably either out drinking or with someone new.

Tony hated him for a second, hated that he could wine, dine, and sleep with any girl and society would deem it appropriate—yet Tony couldn't even look at men a certain way because society, _no_ , religion deemed it a sin.

Tony broke down then, he cried deeply into his pillow until he was sure it was thoroughly soaked.

After that loud outburst he had today, it would probably be the last time he'd be kissed like that. At least he could die with that memory seared in his brain.

* * *

 **A/N: Dun, dun, duuuun. I wonder what will happen in the next chapter. We'll see next week won't we? ;)**


	3. Ch3 Pt 1: Family Doesn't end at Blood

Steve watched as Tony quickly exited the locker room, he noticed how the brunette would look back every couple of seconds to see if Steve was following, and satisfied with what he found, he kept walking.

Steve thought about chasing after, explain himself—but what could he say?

Steve punched his locker hard enough to cut his hand. He welcomed the sting, anything to distract him from his thoughts.

Why did he do something so stupid? It was that look he gave you in the storage room, how close you two had been to-

Steve tried to take another breath, but found it impossible; he was choking on his own laughter; a hysterical laughter that soon turned manic. Not soon after that he was sobbing; he hadn't experienced such quick turn of emotions since the death of his best friend.

Steve tried to collect himself as best as he could, his hands were still shaking by the time he was able to focus on the task ahead. Whatever that was.

Steve picked up a jacket from the floor and quickly realized it was Tony's. Steve brought the garment of clothing close to his nose and inhaled. His eyes fluttered shut then snapped back open.

Here it was, his excuse to talk to Tony again, explain himself—properly.

But not tonight, tonight Steve needed to clear his head and prepare for tomorrow. He had to make sure Tony understood his intentions, he just had to.

ooOOoo

Steve drove up to the apartment; he was there an hour early, just in case Tony considered pulling a fast one on him. He had the jacket right next to him ready to be carried to the other man at any moment.

He didn't know how he would do it, probably just try to catch his attention and hope he didn't make a scene.

Steve was grateful that it had only been the two of them on that floor and that no one had decided to check in the lockers for something they may have missed. Steve tried really hard not to think how much worse the situation would have been if someone heard Tony's screams; taken out of context that could sound pretty bad. (In their current context they're pretty bad too.)

Speaking of the brunette, Steve spotted him coming out of the building, Clint in tow. Steve contemplated leaving the car, would Tony be stupid enough to expose them both by creating a scene, or was this the perfect opportunity to catch him where he couldn't act?

Steve decided to take the risk, it would all be worth it if he could get at least one word in edgewise.

"Tony." Steve hated how quickly Tony's entire body froze at the sound of his voice. He'd have to rectify that, sooner more preferably than later.

"I thought I told you to keep your distance." Tony replied, not even bothering to turn around and look at him.

"Something happen' that I should know about?" Clint asked, perversely confused.

"No." Tony snapped.

"Not really." Steve said simultaneously.

Clint raised his hands in the universal motion for surrender.

"Tony please, I need to talk to you… you left your jacket in the locker room floor… I came to return it." Steve said, hesitant to hand it, his only excuse for being in the same space as Tony, over to its owner.

"Burn it." Tony murmured, starting to walk away with a surprised Clint.

"Tony wait-

"What do you want Steve?" Tony snapped, finally turning around. Steve was immediately taken aback by the sight of Tony's red, puffy eyes. He wondered how Tony had managed to explain that to Clint.

"I-I just wanted to… Tony I'm sorry. I really am, if you'd just let me explain-

"Explain what, exactly? How can you explain away that?" Tony was almost hysterical; Steve could see he was losing a battle with his tear ducts.

"Okay, will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?" Clint demanded, just to be shot down by the two of them again.

"If you'd let me speak-

"You know, I thought you were a pretty nice guy Rogers, all manners and class. But now I know you're nothing more than a low-life pig. Keep the jacket, donate it, throw it away, I don't care. But please, don't talk to me again." Tony said in the calmest voice he could muster at the moment.

Tony started walking to work, not caring if Clint followed or not. Clint, on the other hand, was conflicted; he wanted to follow his friend and comfort him but, at the same time, he wanted to know what the hell happened yesterday, and he knew that Steve would probably be more inclined to tell him than Tony ever would. But alas, family loyalty tethered him to his friend and with one last reluctant look back, he ran after Tony and walked with him to work.

ooOOoo

Any moment that Steve didn't spend working, he'd use it to try and reach Tony. He'd try to make up any excuse to see him; he even jammed one of the parts so he'd have a legitimate item to carry.

He hated to make a spectacle out of the whole situation, but he'd been growing desperate; every passing second that he didn't get to explain himself, was another second closer for Tony to have an excuse to tell someone—especially the police.

Steve had been so sure, though, that Tony felt the same! Or had felt, with the way things were going now, Steve wasn't sure he trusted his judgement anymore.

He walked up to Clint and Tony's area with the jammed piece of machinery. Clint was the first to spot him and point him out to Tony. The brunette turned to see if it was true and then resumed his work.

"Mr. Stark." That felt odd, Steve wasn't even sure if he was younger than Tony. It didn't even matter how he addressed him, he wasn't responding.

"Tony. I need your help… You said to come to you i-if I needed any-

"That was before." Tony grumbled, his hands trembling as he tried to package away the parts.

"Before what?" Steve asked, trying to understand what a damn kiss could've done so wrong.

"You know damn well what… so don't play dumb." Tony hissed, bringing their faces closer to emphasize his seriousness.

"I already apologized, what else do you want?" Steve asked ashamedly, his head hanging low.

"For starters, I'd like it very much if you'd move from there; I need to put these things away." Tony said, pushing Steve. Under normal circumstances, Steve would've been quite immobile but, in this instance, he let himself be pushed.

"What about this jammed piece?" Steve asked, holding the part up for anyone who cared to see.

"Ask someone else; I've already taught you the basics. I wasn't required to go above that."

Steve felt like throwing a tantrum (among other things), like a two year old who didn't get his way. But he was an adult, and if he was gonna get anywhere with Tony, he'd have to act like it.

ooOOoo

For the next few days, Steve made sure that he was always present in Tony's line of vision, he stopped interfering with him—but it didn't mean he stopped trying to communicate.

Every day he would wait for him to come out with Clint just to be ignored completely, and every day in the locker room he waited patiently to see if Tony would give him the time of day.

Eventually something did give, but it wasn't from the person he was expecting.

"Start driving, let's have a little chat 'n stroll, shall we?" Clint said, faux-cheerfulness plastered all over his face. Steve looked at him skeptically, looking around Clint to see if Tony was following, but the brunette was already two blocks away.

"Wonderful weather we're having." Clint said with forced civility, Steve tried to ignore the sense of being scrutinized by the shorter man.

"No, alright then—no preambles. I want to know two things because Tony won't tell me shit." Clint said, cutting to the chase.

"If I can answer them, I will." Steve replied sincerely.

"Great, question number one: what happened between you and Tony that other night, you don't have to go into details, but ever since the boxes fell the two of you have been acting stranger than a cow amongst chickens." Clint said.

"I can't really answer that." Steve said, truly sorry that he couldn't—that the society they lived in wouldn't allow him the privilege.

"See, Tony said something similar to that, of course with much more foul language and emotion. Whatever happened between the two of you affected him more than it did you, however." Clint concluded. He took a breath and then continued. "Alright then, second question: why do you keep following us? Tony has made it extremely clear that he doesn't want any part of you, so, why keep pursuing him?"

"I want to apologize, for what I did." Steve replied as vaguely yet honestly as he could.

"And this has to do with that one thing neither of you can tell me about?" Clint asked and Steve nodded. "Now see, therein lies the problem. You have something that needs to be fixed, an unwilling participant, a friend, and an unknown third body. Say buddy, you didn't hurt Tony did you?" Clint asked seriously.

Steve looked to his right and then back to the road.

"Not physically, no." Steve said, bullets of sweat pooling on his forehead with each new question.

"Not, physically… but mentally. Shit, if I didn't know any better I'd say you and Tony were acting like teenage lovers—and you fucked up." Clint said, hitting the bull right in the eye.

There was no way that Steve's face could've given it away, no flipping way! But for some reason or another Clint gasped and connected the dots, the puzzle pieces flying into place.

"You're a fucking lavender?" Clint exclaimed. Steve almost stopped the car in his shock.

"Well, I've never heard it put so nicely, but yes…" Steve trailed off, not sure where to go from there.

"Well that explains everything then, I didn't expect a man like you to be of that certain…inclination, but you're certainly not the first person I've come across who defied all logic." Clint said.

"You seem to be taking me being a homosexual quite well." Steve observed, worried it was just an act to get him to trust in Clint.

"Oh, you mean because of the teachings of some dusty old book that's been around longer than my grandmother's third nipple? I couldn't give two shits about who you shagged or who you didn't. What matters right now is fixing this thing you've done to Tony." Clint said, surprising Steve further.

"I've tried, okay; he wants nothing to do with me." Steve said, finally opening up to Clint.

"That man can be more stubborn than a closed door, trust me I know. But he told me once you know, this was years ago, he doesn't even know. We'd just come back from a bar, he was probably a bit drunker than I was. Long story short, he confessed—he was so scared I'd find out, he even told me to keep it a secret from myself… he's my brother you know, I'd do anything for him. This is why I need the two of you to settle your issues and move on, because frankly I can't take it." Clint said, giving Steve a little bit more insight to Tony's personal home life.

"I don't know what to do, I've exercised every possibility." Steve said his tone a bit more on the side of desperate than he'd like it to be.

"Yes, but now you have an evil genius by your side." Clint reminded, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I still don't understand why you're helping me." Steve said skeptically.

"Like I said, Tony's my brother." Clint replied, a genuine look on his face. "I'd do anything for him."

* * *

 **A/N: Well this chapter is quite small, sorry about that, but I'd rather break this section into two (keep you guys in suspense) than put it all together, you'll see why it works better this way next week (I hope).**

 **As a side note, something may have gone wrong on FanFiction's end and I'm not able to see some reviews/comments, I get the email but not the review on the actual story. Long-story-short, it seems that it is fixed now, but that is the reason I wasn't able to readily reply to some of you. Hopefully it doesn't happen again. It was quite frustrating.**

 **Thank you so very much for sticking around with me. I'm very glad you guys are enjoying it so far!**


	4. Ch3 Pt 2: It Isn't Technically Kidnappin

Part 2: It Isn't Technically Kidnapping, Since He Isn't a Kid

 **Hello Lovelies, thank you to all who have reviewed, fav/followed. It means the world to me!**

* * *

Steve waited the allotted days Clint prescribed; he waited patiently for that signal that would eventually tell him if the coast was clear or not.

He waited until his spirit ached.

He wasn't sure if he could hold out for five whole days, but he had to. He was still desperate to find out what Clint was doing with, or rather telling, Tony at the moment. He still wanted to know if Tony was alright, that was his top priority. But he had to wait.

Finally, the longest five days of his life passed and the plan was put in motion. The thing was, Steve didn't know what the _plan_ was, he was simply told to pack a lunch for two and wait in the car that sixth morning and Clint would take care of the rest.

ooOOoo

Tony should have known something was up when, after Clint spoke to Steve, the blonde disappeared from his radar. It was almost as if he dropped off the face of the earth. The first two days were jarring, by the third he began to relax, and on the fifth day he could breathe easy. But on the sixth day the familiar black car stood silently by the curb and a strong force was pushing him towards it.

"Clint! What are you doing? Stop!" Tony protested as his best friend used his entire body to crowbar him into the car. Steve looked just as surprised as Tony; for some reason the brunette had an inkling that the blonde had as much idea about what was going on as he did. Which is to say, none at all; that was a comfort in some way.

His momentary relief gave Clint the edge to push him into the car and lock them both inside. The Model T wasn't made to passage three individuals in the front so it was a tight fit. One Tony didn't want to be in the middle of but was, inadvertently. So to avoid any physical contact with the blonde, Tony was basically sitting on Clint's lap, which was as comfortable as you could imagine.

"Chilly outside, ain't it?" Clint asked with a bright smile on his face, Tony twisted around to scowl in his direction and Steve stared at him with a panicked look in his eye.

"Well drive won't ya', we'll be late for work if you don't." Clint reminded.

Steve obliged, staring straight ahead at the already strange day.

Tony fumed silently in his squished corner, his heart, however, hammered away miles a minute with the proximity of Steve's body heat.

He wanted to hate him, hate Steve for putting them into this situation, but he knew (even with his irrational brain) that Steve had nothing to do with it, and the person to blame was currently whistling a merry tune.

Tony decided to stare ahead and try to calm down, he could see the first signs of his workplace and soon this nightmare of a ride would be over.

Right before they arrived, Clint voiced the second part of his plan.

"So you know what they do at Picnics right Steve?" Clint said as if it was the most natural sentence to utter in that situation. "I want you to take Tony-boy over here to a nice little woodland-y area. Don't stop driving until all the factories are gone and you see a small creek. Should be pretty easy to find." Clint said getting out of the car.

Tony rolled his eyes and stared at his friend (he was really reconsidering that title) as if he'd lost a couple of marbles along the way. He began to follow, but Clint closed the door on him and looked pointedly at Steve.

"Clint, let me out." Tony demanded, but the blonde was blocking the exit with his body and stopping the door with his hand.

"Steve?" Clint asked looking at the driver. Steve looked between Clint and Tony; the sensible decision would have been to let Tony out by the driver's side and go into their workplace, Tony hasn't spoken to the police and he's had plenty of time to do so, but something told him that he wouldn't. The not-so-sensible option would be to put as much pressure on the gas as it could take and do as Clint instructed him.

As the car drove away—with Clint waving good luck and Tony screaming incoherently—Steve was surprised to find that he wasn't feeling very sensible today.

* * *

After two hours of driving, Steve finally stopped the Model T in a secluded area with small trees and a creek not far from the car. The brunette stopped screaming at him to turn around an hour ago, but his anger and frustration could still be felt through the leather of Steve's jacket.

Tony looked stonily ahead, his mouth set at a pout, and his entire body rigid as a stringed bow.

When the car came to a complete stop and Steve killed the engine, Tony was the first to get out. He slammed the door hard and hoped it broke something. His anger and rage carried him forward towards the path they just traversed. He didn't care if it'd take him ten hours to get back. He would walk them.

"Tony wait!" Steve called, running after Tony.

"Don't." Tony warned, his voice cracking incredibly as he tried his hardest to keep his composure and not kill Steve in the middle of the road.

"It was just a kiss, damn it!" Steve finally exploded. All his feelings finally culminating into that one phrase. Tony stopped abruptly and turned around slowly. The blonde looked desperate, like a child almost.

"It was just a kiss, I didn't take advantage of you, I would have stopped…I would have…" Steve said, looking like he was trying to reassure himself as much as he was trying to reassure Tony of that fact.

The shorter man sighed and returned to the passenger side of the Model T. He sighed again and returned to stand in front of Steve.

"Picnic?" Tony asked skeptically.

"Yes, a picnic."

ooOOoo

A couple of minutes later, the two of them sat on a plain blanket that overlooked the creek and the trees ahead. Steve laid out the contents of the picnic basked in-between the two of them.

"I didn't know what you ate in your sandwiches, so I just brought you every ingredient separately." Steve announced as he removed said ingredients and then his packaged sandwich.

Tony nodded curtly and began to assemble his own. Steve looked as the brunette picked his particular ingredients and memorized the combination for future reference…just in case.

They ate silently, the most time spent in silent peace since the whole kiss fiasco.

"I'm not one of you, you know. One of those _things_." Tony said silently as he drank the offered water.

"We're not _things_ Tony." Steve tried to remind him.

"I just finished saying I'm not one of you!" Tony snapped, quickly looking at Steve then away. "Disgusting sodomizers, you disgusting animals have no respect for the sanctity of marriage. Or yourselves. Men are supposed to be with women, birth children, and carry on. Not… not…" Tony couldn't continue he brought his knees to his chest and leaned his head down to rest it. Steve stood up abruptly, his inner insecurities crumbling with every word Tony spoke. It was a reflection of the many things he'd heard among the years by different people who spoke so lowly of his kind. As if they were some foreign body that needed to be eradicated. But having it be said by someone he cared for cut him deeply.

Tony on the other hand projected what his father had shouted at him many times in a drunken rage.

Tony had confided in him at an early age, too early to even remember if he had said it correctly, but his father's reaction was explosive and he never said a word about it again. Of course he didn't believe a word, but it would make it easier for him to lie to Steve, he already made a fool of himself _and_ out of the entire situation.

"You don't believe that." Steve said sitting back down on the blanket. He was staring straight ahead, his back tightly upright and his hands trembling slightly.

"I'm not one of you Steve!" Tony insisted, trying very hard to keep his voice down, but finding it impossible to do so.

"One of what? What am I then? Am I not human, do I not _bleed_?" Steve demanded, finally facing Tony head on. Their voices seemed to carry deep into the woods, their argument being carried by the stream, but they were all alone for miles in all directions.

Tony cracked then, collapsing on the ground, clutching at his chest. He shouldn't be doing these extraneous tasks; his heart condition didn't allow him the liberty. Steve was immediately apologetic; he moved the picnic supplies out of the way and patted Tony on the arm trying to gauge if it was okay for him to touch him.

Tony meanwhile sobbed into the sheet mumbling over and over "I'm not one of you."

Steve decided to lie down and look into the sky as Tony collected himself. A couple of minutes later the brunette's breathing had evened out and Tony was now sleeping. Steve looked to his right and into the troubled lines that coated Tony's face as he dreamt.

Steve longed to trace the lies into one smooth edge and erase the grief that he has caused with his mistake.

There was a bright side to this, however, Tony trusted him enough to sleep in his presence. Steve counted that as a win in his book.

The blonde sat back up and snuck glances of Tony's still body. The instant he started to think about touching the brunette, Tony turned to the side, simultaneously interrupting Steve's train of thought.

It was such a delicate balance between what he wanted to do, and what he could actually do. He was irrationally jealous of his own eyes, for they could gaze upon Tony's sleeping face—caress it with their function—and be content, meanwhile teasing Steve and leaving him with a strong craving.

He stood up and walked closer to the creek. He dipped a shaky hand into the cold water and splashed his face to cool his heated skin. The chilled temperature did him well, he even thought of dipping his entire head in and never resurfacing. And though that thought may be dark, if he were to resurface, he might catch pneumonia.

He returned to the small blanket on the ground where Tony now lay in a fetal position, his hands clasped tightly together and his body shaking as if he were cold.

Steve shucked his jacket, placing it lovingly over Tony's shivering frame; the brunette instantly relaxed into the warmth and let out one last shiver of appreciation as his body acclimated to the heat.

Steve grinned slightly as he resumed his position on the ground. He dug into the basket and pulled out a knife and two apples, he peeled the skin and sliced the flesh into six even pieces, repeating the process with the second apple. He took a bite into the sweet fruit and sighed contently.

He'd have to thank Clint for this later.

He finished the rest of his apple and pulled out his sketchbook and pencil from the basket. He also carried the daily newspaper, a book, and an assortment of charcoals.

He began with some practice lines, soon delving deeper and sketching the landscape in front of him.

The slight movement of Tony's shoulders caught his eye and Steve developed an idea.

He turned slightly so he was now sitting perpendicular to Tony. In the couple of minutes that it took to begin sketching his slight frame, Steve knew instantly that this would be his favorite pastime. He should probably stop, to save himself the pain of withdrawal later.

He didn't though, by the time he finished and was content with his rendition of reality, Tony began to stir and the brunette showed the first signs of consciousness. Steve closed his sketchbook and watched Tony slowly revive his limp limbs.

The brunette seemed surprised of his surroundings. He looked down at the jacket that was covering his frame, the picnic basket, the freshly cut apple, and finally, Steve.

"You didn't have to do this you know, I don't know what Clint told you but you didn't have to do it." Tony said fingering the hem of Steve's jacket. He wasn't sure if he should return it yet, it smelled so overwhelmingly of _him_ that it clouded his judgement.

"I just wanted to apologize properly; I didn't know what to do… I was desperate." Steve admitted, lowering his head in admittance of guilt.

It took Tony a long minute to look at Steve and take in his words. He wasn't sure if it was the calm sounds of the creek, the cool air of Fall, or the fact that Steve looked like a bashful child, but whatever the reason, he decided to utter the next words.

"I forgive you."

Steve's reaction was priceless; it was as if he'd just been told he won the lottery. A bright smile encased the blonde's face and he looked overwhelmed with emotion.

"That's all I wanted, thank you." Steve said, irrationally happy in Tony's opinion. But the brunette couldn't hold back, he was also extremely overwhelmed with emotion. He smiled tentatively and then with more gusto as a wall shattered in his mental inhabitance.

"Are those slices for me?" Tony asked gesturing towards the apple.

"Yes, I didn't know how you wanted them so I peeled the skin and cut out the core." Steve admitted.

"That's exactly how I eat them." Tony replied, biting into the sweet flesh of the fruit.

As the light started to dim and the shadows the sun casted elongated, Tony found that he very much despised the thought of leaving, of leaving this peaceful space behind. He was afraid that if they left, his disgust for what Steve had done would come back full force, and he didn't want that, because he wanted Steve to do it again—and harder. So hard he would break into a million pieces.

Those thoughts hit him abruptly as he climbed into the Model T. He wanted very much for Steve to savage him, but the blonde wouldn't even touch him after the spectacle he'd created out of the whole fiasco.

Tony was now panicking, the thought of never experiencing something as intense as that kiss was daunting. It left him feeling odd and cold; he shivered and brought Steve's jacket closer around himself.

"I'm sorry it's so cold, I wish they'd put heaters in these cars. It would make them so much easier to drive in colder nights like these." Steve said apologetically.

Tony nodded, acquiescing. But the cold wasn't the reason he shivered.

The brunette gathered the courage to scoot closer to Steve until his entire side was flush against the blonde. Steve was taken by surprise, almost losing control of the wheel in the process.

Tony smiled slightly, he could do this, baby steps.

ooOOoo

As they pulled up to the sidewalk of his apartment building, Tony hated the sight. It meant a jarring realization that the day was through.

"Here we are," Steve said. "Thank you for coming with me today, or, I guess, not _leaving_." Steve corrected.

"Yes… um Steve, about what I said-

"No, you don't have to explain yourself. If you feel that way about uh-about me, there's nothing I can do to change your mind." Steve said solemnly.

"No, you misunderstand me." Tony whispered, looking ashamed.

Steve hated to seem hopeful, but the look on his face probably revealed it anyways, he tried to remember what Clint had told him about Tony, but the more he looked the harder it was to believe.

"I… I don't believe what I said. I don't think that way about you… or people like you… I'm just…" Tony found that he could say no more. A literal blockage was keeping his voice from escaping and making sound.

"I understand." Steve said; ready to ease Tony's discomfort. The brunette wasn't ready to reveal anything yet, which was fine by Steve.

"I just didn't want you to leave thinking that I meant all that drivel. I don't, I really truly don't. I hope you can understand that." Tony continued.

"Like it never happened." Steve promised sealing his lips and throwing the key away.

"Thank you." Tony said with a sigh of relief.

The smaller man climbed out of the car and walked slowly to the steps of his apartment. He waved goodbye as the blonde pulled out of the sidewalk and into the main road. Steve waved back and sped away.

It wasn't until he was snuggled deeply under the covers of his warm bed that he realized he forgot to return Steve's jacket.


	5. Frozen Pipes

The following day, Tony woke up the most rested he had felt in months. He was actually surprised to find that he woke up before his alarm and was able to get ready earlier. He was even more surprised to find Clint cooking breakfast.

They were quiet for a second, Tony for a loss of words and Clint out of anticipation.

Eventually Clint Spoke, "So… how did it go?" He asked tentatively, holding a pan of scrambled eggs over a plate for Tony.

"How did what go?" Tony asked taking a sip of his coffee. Clint gave him an exasperated look and shook his head.

"Don't play dumb with me Tony; you know exactly what I'm referring to." Clint said serving his portion of the breakfast.

"Oh, you mean how you technically aided in my kidnapping. Yeah, that went as well as you'd expect." Tony said with a faux cheerful tone.

"Sorry about that, I just couldn't stand the two of you arguing, it was driving me up the wall." Clint said, sitting down to eat his breakfast.

"You know, don't you… what he did?" Tony mumbled into his plate.

"I know about you too Tony." The brunette's head snapped up to look at Clint in the eyes. "Yeah, you told me once a very long time ago. You don't remember 'cause you were drunk." Clint continued, taking a sip of his tea.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Tony asked, flabbergasted.

"Because it's not a big deal. You being that way is no fault of your own and honest to goodness, I am offended that you think a little sexual preference would change my opinion of you. You're my brother Tony; nothing will ever change that." Clint said sincerely.

Tony's eyes welled up and he had to dab them quickly to dispel the ridiculous tears that had formed.

"Thanks." Tony said, returning to his food.

"So… did you two fuck?" Clint asked as Tony choked on his toast.

"What?! No, Clint!" Tony said incredulously.

"Well I thought, with the way he keeps looking at you that you know, once you'd resolved all your petty shit you'd get down to business." Clint said, shrugging his shoulders.

"It doesn't even matter, we're just friends now. He probably won't ever touch me again." Tony said, his tone taking on a darker edge at the proposition.

"Are you kidding me? After all the shit I had to do- god you two are hopeless. I'm done; I absolve myself from all responsibility and leave it to you two to resolve your own shit." Clint said, rising from the table and grabbing his coat.

Tony followed closely behind him, forgetting Steve's coat. Whether it was intentional or nots, I can't really tell.

ooOOoo

Steve looked up as Tony knocked on the car's window and stepped inside. The blonde was honestly surprised (and very relieved to find) that Tony was willingly accepting a ride. After last night, he still couldn't gauge Tony's emotions well.

Steve was a little disappointed when Clint followed suit; he hoped to have had the brunette to himself on this chilly morning in September.

"Good morning gentlemen." Steve said politely, pulling out into the street. It was as if today was a do-over for yesterday's mishap. He really wasn't sure how Fury was going to take his absence but Clint had assured him that he would take care of it.

"Morning." Tony replied. This time he didn't fight the tight space, but he did keep a little distance between them.

It was a relatively quiet ride, as yesterday loomed over their heads like a well-placed sword. Steve really didn't want to talk about it, but it seemed inevitable.

Miraculously, they pulled into the familiar parking spot and not a word was uttered about it.

* * *

The comforting lull of repetition was actually welcomed by Tony, just this once he was glad he had something to do with his hands. By the time the end of his shift rolled around, he was drained from his energy, but in an accomplished way.

He walked into the locker room sweaty and greasy, someone had kick-started the furnace and the entire factory felt humid rather than warm. It would take a while for the filters to start operating properly. If Fury let him, he'd take a look at them and see if he could tweak around with certain parts.

He was taken aback by the amount of men congregated in front of the showers when he entered the locker room.

"What's going on?" Tony asked a nearby worker.

"Oi laddie, them pipes 'ere are frozen. Only one of them things workin', we all have to wait patient-like if we want te bathe. A load of shite if you ask me." The short Irishman responded, his accent thick and barely discernable. Tony nodded and then sighed; he could return home where he had running water, but he knew that the water would be freezing by the time he did, but here, the furnace kept the water at nearly scalding when it had to.

Tony went to sit down on the bench in front of his locker and wait out the line. When he saw Steve looking around for him, he waved the blonde over and patted the space next to his.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, the little furrow of his brows making his face look childlike and innocent.

"Every single pipe except one is frozen. The guys have to wait to take a shower and I'm willing to bet they're doing it because it's the only hot water they'll have for a long time." Tony explained beginning to unlace his work boots.

"That's terrible. Don't we have guys who can fix that?" Steve asked, mimicking Tony's actions.

"At this time of the night, it's better if we just do it one at a time than try and call a plumber to fix it." Tony said, unbuttoning his work vest in the process.

It took about half an hour for the men to cycle through the shower and out of the locker room. By then Tony and Steve were the only two remaining bodies.

"Would you like to go first?" Steve asked, motioning to the shower.

"Why don't we go together, you know, conserve the water?" Tony asked, his cheeks flaming as he realized what his proposition could imply.

Steve swallowed slightly as the thought of being in the same space (naked) with Tony, intrigued him.

"Sure, we can shower together. It'll go faster that way."

It was awkward at first, they both wanted to get under the spray but in order to do that they had to be touching and, in retrospect, Tony had to admit that he hadn't quite thought this whole plan through. He wasn't quite sure what he was trying to accomplish by inviting Steve into taking a shower with him, he wasn't sure if he was trying to achieve anything at all!

He was so confused.

"Want me to get your back?" Tony asked pleasantly, though his heart hammered harder than should be physically possible.

"If you want." Steve replied. They had a hushed tone as they spoke, the dark space of the shower made it impossible to talk above a whisper without killing the atmosphere.

Tony ran his hands vertical to Steve's spine, capturing the water into them and rubbing soothing circles into the flesh and muscle. Steve dropped his head and inhaled deeply as Tony's hands worked the knots out of his neck and back. The brunette noticed, as he was working into Steve's shoulders, a freshly made scar over his left deltoid spanning the entire length of his left arm and down his side. Tony unconsciously traced the lines, admiring their ugliness. He never did pay much attention to Steve's skin until just this moment.

"Is this where it happened?" Tony whispered breaking his trancelike state and removing his hands from Steve's back.

"Yeah… a little of my thigh was caught as well. The explosion was bad." Steve said, the talk of death and war bringing down his erection to a manageable length. Tony's fingertips were like feathers made of steel. Hard where they needed to be and soft in the same respect.

"I'm sorry, again. It must have taken months to recover." Tony said turning his back as Steve turned to look at him; he too was rock-solid, his entire body tense.

"Six months, four surgeries, and three-hundred and forty-two stitches. The doctors were surprised when I could move my hand and arm again. It's permanently sore though, it's worse when I wake up and when I go to sleep. But I've gotten used to it." Steve replied gaining permission to run his hands down the expanse of Tony's back.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, but then he saw it: multiple slash marks, the longest running from one tip of his shoulder to the bottom of the opposite hip. He traced a finger to it, similarly to what Tony had done.

"My father… he used to get incredibly drunk and angry. After my mother died it got worse… this one was the piece de résistance. I had thirty stiches running across my back for weeks, and the wound tended to open while I was in school. He stopped beating me so hard after that; used mostly words to express his rage." Tony explained; his story a bit less heroic than Steve's had been, but, nonetheless tragic.

Steve wanted to place an infinitesimal amount of kisses on Tony's back to chase away the bad memories associated with the scars. But he didn't of course; he just apologized, like most humans do when things (that they had no involvement in) were out of their control.

ooOOoo

Tony stared at the steps leading up to his apartment when they pulled up towards the curb. The more he looked at them, the less he wanted to go up.

He looked to his left at Steve, who was staring at him quizzically. His hair was still damp from their conjoined shower and the sight made him hot all over.

"I just remembered, I have your jacket upstairs i-if you want to get it now that is." Tony said, fumbling over his words.

Steve nearly missed the invitation, he would have declined on the basis of being polite, but this was his one chance to see where Tony lived, to breathe the brunette in.

"Sure, if you don't mind of course." Steve said, killing the engine of the car and stepping out. Tony followed promptly, a strange exhilaration in his veins.

They climbed the stairs two at a time until they reached the apartment, Clint was either out or sleeping but it didn't matter, because the jacket was lying innocently on the coat hanger.

Tony picked it up and outstretched his hand to Steve. He didn't let go of the jacket, though, as Steve took it; Tony held on looking into Steve's mercurial eyes.

"Here you go." Tony said slowly, he was willing Steve to pull him closer into that sweet embrace he had felt so briefly that it seemed as if it'd been almost years since he'd had it.

"Thank you for keeping it safe, Tony." Steve said, just as captivated by Tony. He wanted to bring the other man into a long and never-ending embrace, but that would only end in tragedy; he had misunderstood Tony's gaze before, he wasn't the type of man to commit the same mistake twice.

"No problem, thank you for lending it to me." Tony replied. They were running out of things to say, as they were currently frozen in space and time.

"Anytime." Steve said, finally breaking the trance by pulling slightly on his coat. Tony let it go immediately and reddened. He'd never done this (whatever _this_ meant) before, so it would only be logical that he didn't know what to do. A small comfort was that Steve didn't seem to have a clue as well.

Tony waved goodbye as the object of his affection walked away and descended the steps. The brunette held himself against the door as his world rocked against his consciousness. He wanted so much to run after Steve and embrace him, fill his mouth with kisses and in return feel complete. But he could only sit there with an echo from the past and a longing for a future that he may or may not have already destroyed.

* * *

 **See Steve, Tony likes you too!I**


	6. Her Tempest Sounds Like a Bad Play

_Son,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to keep you updated on my well-being, as I'm sure you are worried (if your last letter was any indication). I am doing okay, well, as okay as you could be in the middle of war. How are you adjusting to your new job? Fury is an old friend, so remember to treat him with the utmost respect. By the way things are faring, it seems that the war will be over soon. I'll update you more as I know more._

 _See you soon,_

 _Gen. Rogers_

* * *

Steve closed the letter and picked up some parchment paper and a pen. His reply letter was quite short compared to the others he'd written, but he wasn't quite sure what to say (and he made sure to note that in his letter). He was happy that his father was alive and well; considering that when General Rogers left the army—Steve was three years old—he had no intentions to return. But when duty called, he was always the man to answer.

Steve sealed the letter in a new envelope and stopped by the Western Union to send it off before he picked up Tony and Clint for work.

ooOOoo

Steve reddened a bit as he remembered last night. He felt as if they'd gotten somewhere, crossed an invisible line they were both unaware existed. He wanted to keep going, keep crossing boundaries that would make some people uncomfortable. He was getting ahead of himself, but then again, he'd never felt like this before.

Tony walked down the steps (Clint right behind) and the sight of him never failed to make Steve's heart stutter and reset every time. He now understood why men would go to war for this feeling. It was so succinct, incredibly different to anything else or any other emotion that would or could be elicited by someone else. Every sensation was different when it came to Tony, his ears were more alert to the sounds the other man produced, and his eyes were glued to the body and followed them with almost a machinelike precision; his skin felt electrified whenever they touched. He could go on for hours on how his senses would change as Tony evaded and stole his concentration, but they only had a couple of minutes to get to work on time.

ooOOoo

"I was thinking that maybe we could go to a showing of a movie tonight." Steve said during his lunch break with Tony and Clint. It was the first time since he had arrived to the factory that he was able to sit with the duo in an amicable atmosphere.

"I've never seen a movie before." Clint confessed, absentmindedly, then he realized that Steve wasn't specifically talking to the _both_ of them, but was much too polite to say it otherwise. "But I have plans tonight anyways, so count me out if you're going." Clint continued, though, even if he hadn't had a plan, he still wouldn't have gone.

"I've never seen a movie either." Tony said, biting thoughtfully into his sandwich. "But I keep hearing they're a ton of fun."

"Yes they are, very fantastical, there are these large screens in a theater, similar to that of a play. Live orchestra, popcorn, refreshments; it's quite a treat." Steve said excitedly, then he sobered as Tony skeptically looked at him. "That is if you are interested in going, of course."

"How much for a ticket?" Tony asked, contemplating going on an overnight outing with Steve, not bothering to correct the man in telling him that he'd never seen a play either.

"You wouldn't have to worry about the cost. I'd take care of it." Steve declared, a bit more hopeful.

"I can also take care of it, that's why I asked." Tony said, his pride being put slightly on the line. Clint rolled his eyes as he noticed how his brother would get ready to defend the little dignity he had left. He wondered how Steve would take care of this one.

"Oh of course I know you can take care of it, I never doubted that for a second; however, on this occasion, it would be my treat." Steve said, trying to do damage control _before_ any damage could be made.

Clint was impressed by the way Steve handled Tony's random emotions. They would be okay, and he'd just slowly fade into the background as they fostered something greater than friendship. At least he hoped they would.

"A treat?" Tony asked, unsure. He was very unused to anyone doing things for him without an ulterior motive. Clint was the only person he could trust in this world, and as much as his infatuation with Steve grew, it still didn't erase the fact that he knew virtually nothing of the man except the very surface. Trusting him with his past was much different than trusting him with his life.

"Yes." Steve replied, very close to retracting the offer since it didn't seem as if Tony was all that interested.

"I suppose, since it's just this once… I wouldn't be disinclined to go." Tony said, brightening the rest of Steve's day with those words.

* * *

The remainder of the work-day was as monotone as any other day at the factory for the duo. But something was bugging Tony about Clint.

"Why did you back away so suddenly from going to the movies, it wasn't as if Steve said only I could go." Tony asked Clint as they loaded the final boxes unto the belt.

"Because, Nostradamus, he _was_ only asking you. He may not have said it directly, but it would have messed up any _other plans_ he had as a consequence, if I decided to go." Clint said, winking at Tony.

"You think he has other things in mind besides the movies?" Tony asked. After last night, he wouldn't be surprised. He should stop leading Steve on if he had no intention on following up on a hollow and unspoken promise.

"Well, maybe. He doesn't seem the type to do anything absolutely risky or illegal, yet he has also been the type to surprise me when I least expect it. But then again, he's harmless." Clint replied, contemplating the different sections of Steve's personality and mannerism that he's managed to scrounge up over the past couple of weeks. "I don't know Tony, he isn't gonna kidnap you again, if that's what you're thinking." Clint said; what he _meant_ to say is that if Steve _did_ happen to kidnap him, this time, Clint had nothing to do with it.

For the remainder of the shift Tony tumbled with his troubled thoughts; he wanted to trust Steve, (apart from the momentary emotional outburst) the man had given him no serious reason why he shouldn't. And besides, isn't this what he wanted, to get closer to Steve?

ooOOoo

"Why do we always end up like this?" Tony asked as he unlaced his work boots, ready to enter the shower; they were finally fixed, so no more awkward touching.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, removing his stained top.

"The only two in the locker room. It's as if the entire world evacuates and we become the lone survivors." Tony said.

"Wouldn't that be a dream?" Steve joked, a small smile appearing on his lips. Tony shook his head in response, but smiled too. It seems as if the magic of the picnic still lingered.

They showered quickly, leaving no room for conversation, exited the building, and made a beeline towards the car.

"You will enjoy yourself, I hope, I know the movies aren't for everyone. But they're quite entertaining if you give them the chance, it's like a story unfolding before your eyes." Steve gushed like this all the way to the movie theater. As Steve explained the many movies he'd seen, Tony noticed how they were getting deeper into the city as more establishments appeared, more lights, more people, and more cars. He smiled slightly, since he'd never really gotten a chance to explore the city in depth since most of the time Clint and he only came here to conduct errands.

"I'll enjoy myself; by the way you speak, it's as if this movie is the greatest invention ever." Tony said.

"Well… it keeps us distracted for an hour and thirty minutes. And in the state this world is in currently, we could use with a little distraction." Steve said, morosely.

Tony nodded, affirming his claim. He'd read the news, he knew the Germans were close to giving up. It was still such a bloody and unnecessary war. He was just glad he didn't have to be a part of it.

Steve's mood brightened again (though it was a bit more subdued than before) as they entered the theater. The receptionist was a small young man with a bellboy's hat and red vest. The entire theater was washed in red: red carpet, red ceiling, red walls, red, red, red. It was as if they were inside an organ.

Tony marveled at the shining lights as he wondered over to the posters showcasing the past, current, and future film productions. Some of them looked as ridiculous as they sounded; _The Eternal Conquest, Her Passion,_ etc _._ It was as if someone transposed a romantic play into a movie.

Steve paid for two tickets, the receptionist looking at the both of them strangely.

"Don't try anything funny mister." The receptionist warned as he unwillingly handed them their tickets.

"Excuse me?" Steve asked, taken aback by the sudden rudeness.

"You and that gentleman over there, don't try anything funny. We don't normally see his kind over here." The receptionist clarified, or at least tried to.

For a brief moment Steve went into panic mode. Did Tony and he have some form of tag that separated them from every other man?

"I still don't understand what you mean." Steve said as calmly as he could.

"Sir, I don't mean to be rude but, we don't normally see lower-class civilians here. They're not normally well equipped for this sort of luxury so if you could…" The receptionist said, losing some of his courage as he realized how angry Steve was becoming.

So it wasn't because of their nature, but rather because he thought Tony was poor.

"Glad to see the clothes on a man's back and the way he keeps his hair dictates his riches." Steve said, stepping away brusquely from the counter to get Tony and pull him away from the posters. He decided to overlook the rudeness for now, since he'd already gotten the tickets.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing immediately how Steve's eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.

"Yes, no need to worry over that now." Steve said, sighing and letting his anger flow through the exhale.

They made their way to the concession stand where another boy, similar in stature, and identical in clothing, greeted them. This time with a smile and a friendly hello.

"What would you gentlemen like?" He asked, his green eyes and slicked-back hair sparkling from all the lights adorning the various counters and contouring his face in a light yellow glow.

Steve turned to look at Tony who had a childlike wonder on his face. "Everything?" He questioned, having a hard time making up his mind. Then he returned to his senses and shook his head. "I mean-

"Everything it is." Steve said smiling brightly. The receptionist smiled too and began to take one of each candy, treat, and a large tub of popcorn.

"Steve, wait, I didn't mean that." Tony said shaking his head. He didn't want to overstep his boundaries.

"Nonsense, go big or go home right?" Steve said, removing the appropriate amount of money needed to pay for the snacks.

"Steve." Tony said a bit defeated as the big brute picked up the bucket of popcorn with one arm and attempted to pick up the other items with his crippled arm. Tony sighed and started to pick up the candy. "Let me." He said, his arms running out of room for all the sweets—he'd have to leave some of them for Clint, he knew his brother would kill him if he didn't bring him some souvenirs from the movies.

"You know you didn't have to purchase _all_ the snacks right?" Tony said, uncharacteristically apologetic.

"It's fine, I wanted your first time here to be a special one. I remember the first time I came, it was an experience." Steve stated as he picked some of the popcorn from the very top and placed it in his mouth. "And I know all the options can get overwhelming." He continued.

They found their seats near the middle of the movie theatre, they were quite early and only a few patrons had found their seats.

Steve's willingness to please him still bugged Tony and he tried to explain himself once more. "Look Steve, I don't want you to think that I was taking advantage of this kindness that you're showing me by spending all of your money, that's not who I am." Tony said.

Steve turned to look at the troubled man and sighed. "Tony, you didn't take advantage of anything, I wanted you to enjoy yourself so if you really feel indebted to me, then in order to repay me you should _enjoy yourself_." Steve enunciated, making sure that Tony understood that he wanted to do this for them.

"I-

"No, hush, enjoy yourself." Steve said with a steely determination to keep Tony from feeling as if he owed him anything.

"But-

"No."

Tony took a deep breath and looked at the mountain of candy he had in his hands. He picked one up and ripped it open slowly, the smell of chocolate and caramel overrode his sense of guilt for enjoying this free outing and he took a small bite, then another, then another until the entire candy bar disappeared and he was left with the wrapper. He took a small sip of his refreshment and couldn't keep the smile off his face as the carbon bubbles filled his mouth.

"Okay, I'm enjoying myself. Thank you." Tony said as he ripped into another candy bar.

Steve smiled and dug into his popcorn with more gusto.

The movie began soon after and Tony was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't one of the ridiculous romances, but rather a comedy. He was also surprised to find how entertaining the movie was. The jokes landed perfectly and the entire theater seemed to be in one mind as to the hilarity of the show.

Tony seemed to relax into his chair as the night progressed. He looked to his left quite often to see if Steve was enjoying himself as much as he was. Steve looked so pleased with the movie he wasn't even paying attention to Tony, which gave the smaller man some freedom to trace the other man's profile with his eyes. He turned back to the screen so it wouldn't seem as if he were ogling.

There was a short, fifteen minute, intermission where they were able to throw away the candy wrappers and wash their hands.

"How are you enjoying the movie?" Steve asked, hyper-focused on Tony's answer.

"It's absolutely everything you said it would be. I haven't had that much fun since I was a kid." Tony replied, a little hyped up on the sugar he had consumed.

"I'm glad; we should do this every week." Steve said excitedly.

"Haha, sure, but next time it will be _my_ treat." Tony said, with an edge of seriousness.

"If you say so, Mr. Stark." Steve said, glad that they could get along so well. All that unpleasantness from before seemed to fade away as they enjoyed the rest of the movie, the second half was a lot shorter than the first, so the movie spent less time in the atmosphere and more time wrapping the story up.

Tony was able to save a total of four candy bars for Clint and they both managed to finish the rest of the popcorn and refreshments.

As they exited the theater, the receptionist from before waved them goodbye, this time with a little less incredulity.

"Oh, what a night." Steve sighed, contentedly, as they entered his car.

Tony nodded along, wondering why he had ever been so worried about Steve and 'ulterior motives.' The man was a perfect gentleman. "Too bad it has to end now." Tony said, sighing into the air.

"It doesn't have to, you know, end." Steve said, in a moment of boldness.

"Get out of here, what else could we _possibly_ do tonight?" Tony asked skeptically; it was already quite late, and though they didn't have work tomorrow, Sundays were normally the days he and Clint went shopping for groceries.

"We could go over to my house, since you've shown me the curtesy of inviting me into yours, regardless of how brief that moment was." Steve offered tentatively.

Tony's heart skipped a beat from both fear an anticipation, maybe it was too early to judge if Steve was the 'perfect Gentleman' after all.

"What would we do there?" Tony asked.

"Nothing like _that_ , I have some records and paintings I'd like to show you… You're the first friend I've made since the war started and I enjoy your company. My house is ultimately too silent with my father gone. And now Bucky…" Steve said, his intention wasn't to guilt-trip Tony into going with him, but what he was saying was, nevertheless, true. He was incredibly alone in such a large house; the walls and floors seemed to shout with every step, compared to how silent everything else seemed.

"Okay, I'll go. But only because I've never personally owned a gramophone and I'd love to see one up close." Tony said.

"Great!" Steve exclaimed, probably a bit _too_ excited.

ooOOoo

The drive there was a bit longer than Tony expected. He noticed that Steve lived on the opposite side of town, near the private condominiums, almost in the outskirts. They took an unexpected right into a woodland area and stopped in front of a large, two story house, fully equipped with electricity. No wonder Steve was so keen on paying for the tickets, from the looks of it, the man was loaded!

"You live here?" Tony asked a bit amazed and a bit terrified to exit the car.

"Yes, my great-grandfather built this house from the ground up. We Rogers come from a long line of Generals and Captains. Serving your country does come with some benefits." Steve said looking at his house as if he'd seen it a million times; which of course he has, he lives there.

Steve killed the engine and stepped out of the car, he turned around waiting to see if Tony had exited and noticed how the man was still in the car, his skin a bit paler than usual.

"Tony?" Steve asked.

"Coming, sorry." Tony said as he opened the car door. "I've never seen such a large house up close before. My mother use to work as a maid when I was younger and sometimes she would take me to help her, but it was always to apartments, never to a proper house. It looks like something straight out of a fairytale." Tony said.

"Yes well, it feels as empty as it looks mystic." Steve said, echoing his statement from earlier.

"Let's go inside then."

ooOOoo

The inside was even larger than the outside, if you could imagine. Tony marveled at all the luxuries he'd never been a part of.

"So many paintings… how can you afford all of this?" Tony asked, transfixed, as he fingered the painting's frame.

"My mother was an artist, believe it or not. I sort of followed in her footsteps. I'm not nearly as good as she was though." Steve said.

"Incredible. Absolutely." Tony was speechless. The entire house seemed to shimmer with twinkling lights, the floor a nice tiled interior, a piano to the far end, a sprawling staircase, a deck in the back, and fully furnished rooms. He could see, however, with such a large house, how one could become quite lonely.

"I feel so out of place. I didn't know… if I knew, I would have tried to dress better." Tony said, feeling inadequate in his clothes.

"Don't worry about that, it's just a house, you're not disrespecting the walls by being dressed the way you are." Steve reassured as he pulled out a record and placed it on the gramophone. A sweet melody began, one that Tony didn't recognize.

"Care for a dance?" Steve asked, extending his hand to the other man. Tony wanted to refuse immediately, but what harm would one dance do?

"I'll warn you, I've never danced with anyone before. So I apologize in advance." Tony said, taking his hand. Steve shook his head and waved his concerns away.

"It's easy, I promise, just let me lead." Steve said, pulling the shorter man close.

It was different, Tony realized, willingly pressing up against Steve's chest. They swayed slowly back and forth into the living room and then the hall, they made it through the dining hall and then back again until the record needed to be flipped.

"You said you weren't as good as your mother, but if your mother created masterpieces, what can you do?" Tony asked lowly, scared to break the atmosphere they'd formed with their slow dance.

"If you care to go upstairs, I could show you." Steve replied, his blue eyes holding a small bit of mischief—like a kid up to something no good.

"I'm not gonna regret saying yes, am I?" Tony asked.

"I sure hope not." Steve teased, leading the man upstairs, much like a cow to slaughter. Tony could still hear the echo of the song, like a ghost, through the hallway.

There were even more rooms upstairs, some marked with names like bathroom or storage, and others (Tony presumed) were bedrooms.

They stopped by one unlabeled room, it was dark inside so Steve flipped the switch to reveal a room filled with covered canvases and a tarp-covered floor that held many stains from paints. Some patches were fresher than others but, they all seemed to culminate underneath the current canvas.

"I've never really shown these to anyone so, I hope you don't judge them too hard." Steve said, uncovering some of the tarps. Most of them were beautiful scenery in different stages of sunset. Others were more abstract, but select few were of actual or imaginary people.

Tony was speechless (for what seemed like the fifth time that day) as he phantom-traced the brushstrokes on the canvas.

"These are unbelievable." Tony said in awe. It was an absolute wonder how someone as big and strong as Steve could paint such delicate scenes.

"Thanks." Steve said, his cheeks reddening a bit from the praise and embarrassment of exposing himself with something as personal as his art.

"I wish you would have told me earlier. These are absolutely…incredible; I can't find another word to describe them." Tony said circling around each painting until he reached the one in the center. Steve hadn't uncovered that one so he waited patiently for the sheet to be removed.

"This one isn't done." Steve said, protectively hovering over the final painting.

"I'm sure it's just as wonderful as the others." Tony reassured with a smile.

"No, this one is personal." Steve said, keeping a safe distance between Tony and the uncovered painting.

"I won't tell." Tony promised, morbidly curious as to what Steve could _possibly_ be hiding behind the tarp.

"It's not that simple Tony. I just… this one is mine, okay?" Steve said sighing in defeat.

"I don't quite understand, aren't the others yours as well?" Tony said, misunderstanding Steve's statement.

"Well, yes, but I don't care for those as much as I do this one." Steve said, still assuming the position of guardian for the painting.

"Well, if you insist, I can't quite overpower you and invade your privacy. Though I know, that whatever it is, it'll be just as great as the others." Tony said, a bit disappointed that he didn't get to witness Steve's magnum opus.

They exited the room and stood awkwardly in the dark hallway, the record still played on downstairs, it must be quite a long song.

"I guess I should be going." Tony said, trying to break the tense silence that somehow overcame the otherwise peaceful afternoon.

"Do you have to? I mean, I have a couple more records, and some wine if you're into that." Steve said turning to look at Tony.

"Steve… what you're doing, I appreciate it. But you seem to be using me as a substitute for loneliness-

"No! No, tha-that's not it at all I just-

"Just what?" Tony asked delicately.

"I just enjoy your company, and I feel like we don't get enough time in the day to enjoy ourselves. At least, _I_ feel that way…" Steve felt a bit stupid then, he was probably pushing Tony into this friendship and damaging the little he had managed to save.

"Apart from Clint, I don't have many friends either…" Tony said, trailing off into God knows where. He was just as lost as Steve seemed to be. They were the only two of their kind that he knew of. But did that mean that they had to push anything further than it needed to be?

"You don't have to stay, let me get my jacket and keys and we can go." Steve said, walking away from the tense air.

"Steve, wait." Tony tried to say, but the man was already halfway down the stairs.

Tony almost followed the man, until he realized that this may be the only chance for him to view the elusive painting. He made sure Steve wasn't trekking back upstairs and bolted into the room. His heart hammered hard in his chest as he turned the dim light on and pulled the cover from the painting.

One of his hands found their way to his mouth as he let out a quiet gasp. He recalled, _vaguely_ , falling asleep at the picnic, he had been so stressed that day that the only way to cope would be to sleep it off. But he hadn't realized he'd been sleeping long enough for Steve to detail every part of his face, the picnic, and the forest around them.

He felt a small sense of adoration and flattery that Steve would find him worthy enough to be placed under his brushstroke. Then the creeping sense of dread overcame him as he realized he wasn't the only person in the room. Steve had returned and was looking at him with a mixture of both fear and betrayal.

How was he going to explain himself this time?

* * *

 **A/N: I know, I know, I'm an asshole; that's a cliffhanger and a half if** _ **I've**_ **ever read one. I guess you'll just have to wait until next week for the great reveal.  
**

 **P.S.: I think it may be a bit late to say this, but the characters _are_ OOC, even if it's just a little bit. **


	7. First, couple of people?

"Tony." Steve said, frozen by the door with his jacket in his hands and the keys in the other.

Tony took a while to respond, I mean, how could he even respond to being caught staring at a picture of himself. His curiosity not only led to him discovering something like this, but also to invading Steve's privacy. And the kicker, Steve was probably going to blame himself for drawing Tony without his permission.

"Steve… why didn't you tell me?" Tony asked as he juggled back and forth between looking at himself and looking at Steve.

Steve was silent and still by the door, he hadn't taken a step forward or back since the entire unveiling occurred.

"Were you afraid of how I would react? Am I that unpredictable?" Tony asked both Steve and himself.

"I didn't want you to think that I wanted anything more from this day or this friendship. We should remain friends, for our safety. You said it yourself, you're not one of us." Steve said. The more he said it, the more he believed it, and the harder his heart broke.

Tony returned the cover on the painting and walked slowly towards Steve. Steve's heart was hammering hard in his chest as he looked directly into Tony's eyes to see if they revealed anything there. But Tony was dead silent in all aspects of emotion, he stood incredibly close to Steve, and placed one of his hands on Steve's bicep.

"Is this how they do it in those movies of yours?" Tony asked and before letting Steve reply, he leaned up to kiss him softly, barely a touch of the lips.

"I am one of us." Tony said leaning his forehead against Steve's chest. "I am, and I was scared to say it. My entire life flashed before my eyes when you kissed me that night. I was so scared, scared that you were playing some form of cruel joke for what I had done. I didn't want you to think that there was a chance I enjoyed it. It's the reason the first time we met I was such an asshole. You had this effect on me I'd only ever felt in small amounts across my life." Tony said, his hands clinging to Steve's shirt as if to never let go.

"I was so sure that I could keep up the act, but tonight… I can't anymore. If you've reduced me to this in such a small amount of time, I'd hate to think what you could do for the rest of our lives." Tony continued, finishing his confession and hoping that it was enough to convince Steve that he was absolutely serious.

"I wish you would have said something sooner." Steve said as he caressed Tony's cheek with his left hand.

"And what, risk going to jail?" Tony said, looking up into his baby blues.

"But what about after, after you knew?" Steve asked, the corner of his lips ascending slightly.

"And make a fool of myself after my outburst. I don't think so." Tony said, placing his hand on top of Steve's.

"So what changed your mind so suddenly?" Steve asked quietly.

"I'm selfish I guess, I've never had anyone pour so much attention into me before… and maybe tonight was a bit more magical than I expected." Tony hated using that word, it made it seem like their life was a constant fantasy. He may have lied (slightly) about the attention however, what he really meant to say is pure, innocent attention. This _has_ happened before… but it didn't end as pleasantly as this.

"I did my job well then." Steve joked and chuckled when Tony rolled his eyes.

"So what do we do now?" Steve asked a couples of second later, they still hadn't separated from their previous embrace.

"Take me home, Clint and I have shopping to do tomorrow, and if you're not doing anything…" Tony said an impish smile occupying his face.

"I could help you guys with your groceries, I may have to do some myself now that I think about it. And as for your offer… we'll have to see." Steve replied, playfully poking Tony on his chest.

They separated then and made their way to the car, both seemed to have a weight lifted off their shoulders and a spring accompanied with each step.

Tony looked outside to the bright night of mid-September as they passed the many businesses and night-clubs on their way to Tony's house.

The silence, as they drove, was a calm one, nothing of the previous awkwardness could be felt. They arrived to Tony's apartment ultimately too fast and Tony sighed at the blandness of the brick building. He'd never been one to care for such luxuries as privacy, but now—after experiencing it, he found it to be harder to _not_ want it.

"Here we are." Steve said looking up to the tall building.

"Would you be surprised if I said I didn't want to go?" Tony asked, looking at Steve with a sort of regret reserved for occasions just like this.

"Well I don't want you to leave, so no, I don't find it that surprising." Steve replied, sighing sadly and hoping that the midnight would last forever.

"Goodnight Steve, I'll see you tomorrow I hope." Tony sighed out as he exited the car.

"Of course." Steve replied, waving goodbye to Tony's retreating back. He didn't leave until he was sure Tony was secured inside of the building.

The brunette climbed the stairs two at a time and entered the apartment he shared with Clint.

"Tony, is that you?" Clint shouted from the bedroom. There were bunches of clothing sprawled out all over the place, some obviously women and some men.

"Yeah, hey, what the hell is going on in here?!" Tony shouted back, kicking the clothing out of the way, carving a path towards their bedroom.

"Hey, don't come in here we're… indecent." Clint warned.

"We?" Tony breathed. There were some slight murmurs and whole bunch of shuffling around. Soon, a nappy-headed Clint emerged from the bedroom, hastily dressed to provide some illusion of modesty.

"What are you doing here so early?" Clint asked, pulling his pants up so they wouldn't fall from his waist.

"What are _you_ doing? Period." Tony asked, one hand on his hip the other gesturing to all the clothing on the floor.

"Um. I mean, weren't you supposed to, you know, _be with Steve._ " Clint said, whispering conspiratorially.

"I was, he just dropped me off." Tony said, then catching wind of what Clint tried to say, huffed and shook his head. "Not like that you dumbass, we simply watched a movie. You still haven't answered my previous question." Tony said, his patience wearing thin.

"Well I, picked up a couple of people from the bar and now we are, uh, engaging in what some adults do in their spare time. I would have warned you but I thought you would be _engaging_ for the entire night." Clint admitted, his entire face turning red.

"In my bedroom!" Tony exclaimed then immediately calmed down, it was too late to start screaming.

"Uh, it's _our_ bedroom, but I made sure not to touch anything on _your_ side." Clint replied.

"First, _couple_ of people? Second, in our bedroom? _Third_ , in this apartment? Clint, why didn't you do this somewhere else?" Tony asked, a bit flabbergasted, had he known these were the plans that Clint had, he would have stayed with Steve.

"Well-

But before Clint could reply, there was a knock on the door.

"Are you expecting anyone _else_?" Tony asked, Clint shook his head. The brunette made his way to the door and asked who was there.

"Uh, Tony, I know we said our goodbyes but—Tony swung the door open, surprised to find the blonde outside holding the candy bars Tony had absentmindedly left behind—you left these in my car…" Steve said, trailing off when he saw the state Tony's house was in.

"Steve! Come in, come in, and please excuse the mess. I was having a-a _get together_." Clint said, gesturing for the blonde to come in.

Steve stepped in tentatively, placing the candy bars on the table, and then standing awkwardly.

"I should be-

"How was your evening with Tony, you treated my brother well right?" Clint asked, interrupting Steve.

"Barton, I don't think now is the time for your stupid questions." Tony snapped, taking a deep breath and leading Steve to the door.

"I'm giving you thirty minutes to finish whatever you were doing. So please, hurry." Tony said, exiting the building with Steve in tow.

"Thirty minutes, don't you think you were being a little generous?" Steve asked as they sat down into the backseat of the car. Steve had suggested it since they would be more comfortable there.

"He had a _couple_ of people in there. I think that gives him plenty of time to finish. He's normally very careful with keeping his personal life out of the apartment, or at least, do it when I'm not there. But tonight he thought that you and I would be _together_." Tony replied, emboldened by their budding relationship he laced their fingers.

"Oh." Steve said, realizing what Tony's words meant.

"He's so hell-bent on making sure we end up a couple. Should I break the news to him slowly or quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid?" Tony asked, leaning his head on Steve's shoulder. He inhaled deeply; it was slight, but Steve did use some cologne. It smelled wonderful on him.

"You can do it however you want, or not at all. It's up to you." Steve said leaning his head on top of Tony's.

"You admit it then, that there's something going on?" Tony asked, tentatively.

"Yeah, there is." Steve said, placing a small kiss on Tony's forehead. A loud knock one the window separated their bodies faster than a lightning bolt.

"Okay, we're done." That was the voice of Clint shouting into the car.

"Good." Tony said exiting the car for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening.

"Enjoy yourself Clint?" Steve asked, as he also left the backseat, only to reenter on the driver's side.

"I could ask you the same." Clint retorted, wiggling his eyebrows with a cheeky smile.

"Goodnight Steve, this time for sure." Tony said, dragging his annoying friend away (sometimes Clint was a friend, other times he was a brother. It all relied on what mood Tony was in.)

"Goodnight." Steve replied, reviving the engine and leaving the vicinity.

"I hope you left the window open when you were doing, _whatever_ you were doing." Tony said as they made their way upstairs.

"You must not know me Mr. Stark, the bedroom is cleaner than a whistle." Clint reassured.

Tony sighed, but was too tired to argue. He entered his room, kicked off his shoes and slept until the next morning.

ooOOoo

Tony hadn't slept that well in a long time, he was surprised to find it was already eleven o'clock. He jumped out of his bed when he realized it was way too late, he and Clint were supposed to go to the store with Steve… Steve! Dear God, he must have been waiting so long! What if he already left?

He needed to shower and get dressed immediately.

Tony bolted right out of his room and through the living room into the bathroom… wait…

"Mornin'!" Clint and Steve greeted the startled Tony as he backtracked to make sure he was seeing things correctly. The two were casually sipping tea and it seemed as if they had been talking for quite some time.

"Uh…" Tony didn't know what to say, he tried to fix his messy hair and wrinkled clothes but gave up. "I'm… I'm gonna go take a shower." Tony said, going back into his bedroom to grab his toiletries and clothing for the day then made his way, again, to the bathroom. What a weird day this was already!

ooOOoo

"Okay, I'm presentable now." Tony said as a form of greeting to the other two men at the table.

"Great, I bought breakfast, I didn't know what was customary so I brought some croissants, bread, muffins, and jam." Steve said, almost standing up to allow Tony to sit at the table. However, the brunette dragged a chair from the living area and pulled it towards the table and sat in between Steve and Clint.

"Thanks for the food, we don't normally have anything fancy so this will do." Tony said, taking a huge bite out of the delicious blueberry muffin. "How long have you been here?" Tony asked as he swallowed the treat and took a sip out of Clint's tea, as he normally would.

"I was only here for about two hours. I, too, woke up late today—well, later than normal." Steve replied.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I rarely put an alarm on my days off." Tony apologized while taking a bite out of the croissant.

"No worries, Clint and I were able to get to know each other better as a consequence." Steve said taking a sip of his chilled tea.

"I hope he didn't annoy you, the man has a tendency to be more bothersome than lice in an orphan's hair." Tony said, eliciting some complaints from his brother.

"No, he was quite friendly." Steve replied with a small chuckle.

"That's because he was trying to retrieve information from you. If he weren't so dumb, he could be a detective." Tony said as a matter of fact.

"Tony, I really don't appreciate you talking about me as if weren't sitting right _next_ to you." Clint complained taking another blueberry muffin.

"Oh poor you, leave the room if it bothers you so much." Tony said, rolling his eyes and finishing his breakfast, or brunch really.

"Are we ready then, to get groceries?" Steve asked, getting up to grab his keys.

"Yes." Clint and Tony said in unison, grabbing their coats and exiting the building.

* * *

You wouldn't think that something as mundane as shopping for food to sustain the human body would foster any sort of relationship between the trio, but amongst debating which brand of apple was the sweetest over which type of oat was the thickest, their relationship became a bit tighter. Clint made Steve feel welcome, and Tony subconsciously appreciated that effort. He knew that Clint knew that _he_ didn't have many friends (none to be exact) and that Steve—in the short time that he's been introduced—means a lot to Tony already.

"Hey, I heard there was a carnival in town, they don't normally open on Sundays, but today would be an early showing. How about we go there after we pack away the groceries. Steve, you can keep your lot in our cooler until you need them." Clint suggested from the back seat.

"If you're up for it…" Steve said turning to look at Tony for approval.

"It's your car Steve. But if you're asking if I wanna go, well I have nothing else doing so sure." Tony replied shrugging his shoulders.

Clint exclaimed like an excited child getting a brand-new toy.

They were able to get there before it opened and get tickets at a discounted price. The place soon filled as the night approached and the lights began to showcase the carnival's true splendor.

There was a particular game where you had to throw a ball through a hole ten times in a row in order to get the price. Somewhere along the way Clint found a temporary sweetheart and was showing off his marksmen skills. Soon it became a competition between Steve and Clint to see who could get the most shots into the bullseye. Ultimately Clint won, with a grand total of a hundred and eighty points (each bullseye was worth ten points). He would have kept going but he was starting to get bored. For his excellent effort, Clint received the largest plush of the lot and then gave it to his temporary sweetheart. Because Steve _technically_ passed the requirements, he too obtained the largest plush: a giant penguin. He gave it to Tony in the same way Clint gave it to the other girl.

"You sure? You won it after all." Tony said, reluctant to take the giant thing.

"I'm sure, what else am I gonna do with it?" Steve asked, happy when Tony acquiesced and grabbed the damn thing. The man behind the counter raised his eyebrow, but said nothing about the strange occurrence.

The next challenge was that of strength. Now Steve use to be pretty strong when he was able to functionally wield both arms, but it's been a while since he tested his strength and wanted to see just how good he could be.

Clint, as per custom, went first. He was shy a couple of points but wasn't able to hit the bell all three tries.

Steve tried second, testing the weight of the hammer.

"Come on Steve, you don't think you can do better than 95 points, right?" Clint teased, bringing his sweetheart and the giant pig plush closer.

Steve rolled his eyes and hit the hammer on the plate. The metal ball rose shy of 99, but didn't quite make it to 100. Steve sighed and tried again—again the ball met the ninety-nine mark but didn't quite reach a hundred… was it because he was doing it single-handedly?

"You don't have to beat the machine Steve, you already beat Clint." Tony said, Clint huffed incredulously but didn't take the comment to heart. It was the only boost Steve needed, though, to reach that one-hundred mark. The satisfying ring of the bell was all he needed to hear, and the sudden cheer that erupted from Tony (and the small crowd that had formed), was a plus. The gruff man next to the plushies, congratulated him on his accomplishments and handed him _another_ giant plush, this time in the shape of a bear.

"I didn't know you were that strong Steve." Clint said, half in awe and half in childish jealousy.

"Eh, it came with the training." Steve said massaging his right arm.

"We should go on the Ferris Wheel to end the night on a high note." Tony said, excitedly.

"Did you just make a pun?" Clint asked skeptically.

"Not intentionally." Tony replied, giggling suddenly from the unexpected joke.

Tony, Steve, and the two plushies entered one carriage, Clint, his temporary sweetheart, and their plushy entered another.

"I had fun today, more these two days actually than I've had my entire life." Tony admitted as they rose slowly.

"I'm glad, and I had fun with you as well." Steve said, half-smothered by the giant plush.

As they rose to the top, Tony marveled at how high up they were, exclaiming that he could make out his apartment from there.

"Tony… I've been meaning to ask if-

But Steve couldn't finish his sentence properly as his mouth was overpowered with Tony's tongue, which tasted of cotton-candy and the caramel-corn they had had earlier.

"I do hope that's what you were going to ask, because I can't stand being away from you for more than a couple of hours… oh God _that_ was probably the most romantically filthy thing I've ever said." Tony said, embarrassed by his own brash emotions.

"No, no, that's… that's really sweet. Know the sentiment is fully reciprocated." Steve said almost out of breath.

"Good… thanks for plush by the way." Tony said.

"They're both yours." Steve reminded.

"No, keep one, to remind you of today. Tomorrow we go back to mundane work, so it's nice to keep a souvenir of the weekend." Tony said, hating the slow decent of the carriage, he didn't want this night to end. Not yet anyways.

"Okay, we'll have to do something different for next Sunday." Steve said, already planning the next two weeks.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, let's see what tomorrow brings first." Tony cautioned.

"Aye, aye Captain." Steve said.

It was an overall eventful night, and as the three left (Clint reluctantly) with their plushies in tow, they all differently wondered, what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

 **A/N: Oooh hu-hu, the calm before the storm. I like it.**


	8. If Anything Happened to You (or me)

_Ch. 8 If Anything Happened to You (or me, for that matter)_

* * *

"Monday again." Tony complained as he shuffled into the kitchen. They hadn't gotten home 'til late and his legs ached from all the walking they had done at the carnival.

"Yeah—yawn—I feel ya'." Clint agreed, taking a sip from his morning coffee. He pushed Tony's cup towards the brunette as he got closer.

"I feel sorry for any old chap that has to wake up before us." Tony lamented, gulping the hot liquid and making a face at the milk in the cup.

"Clint, you know I like my coffee black." Tony complained, still sipping from the cup. It was too late into breakfast to make a fresh batch.

"I know, I know. But I'd already poured in the milk before I realized. I wasn't about to throw half a cup of coffee away. Those grains are expensive." Clint retorted, defensively.

"Yeah, yeah. Just _try_ next time." Tony said putting the cup in the basin. "Any news on the war?" Tony asked when he caught sight of Clint reading the paper.

"Yeah, it seems like the Germans are losing big time. You can read it for yourself if you'd like." Clint said, never putting the paper down to give it to Tony. The brunette shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"I'm taking a shower, we have a long day's work ahead of us." Tony said rubbing a hand down his face to wake himself up just a bit more.

ooOOoo

As he had been doing for the past couple of weeks, Steve's familiar car was parked outside the apartment building, the engine off, and the blonde looking expectantly at the door.

Tony realized how the sight of it didn't surprise him much anymore; it was starting to become routine.

"Good morning, how can you stand getting up so early to pick us up?" Tony asked, scooting in first and placing a small kiss on Steve's cheek. He'd never done this sort of thing before, so he was trying to tread lightly and let his instincts guide him until he felt more comfortable.

It took a second for Steve to respond, since he wasn't expecting such outward affection, but he managed to chuckle (a bit nervously) and reply with "If it means getting to spend time with you before work, I'd wake up even earlier."

"Ugh, stop it you two. I'm drowning in molasses." Clint said pushing his thumb to the back of his throat to show his disgust with how sweet they were being to each other. He didn't mean it, of course, he knew that his brother was discovering the new and exciting depths of his feelings. He couldn't fault him for being a little naïve, all things considered.

But still, Steve reddened and apologized, starting the engine and pulling out into the empty road. He wanted so badly for today to be like yesterday (he'd already planned out the rest of the month) but he knew that (unlike him) Tony _had_ to work. He was also one-hundred percent positive that if he ever showed so much as a trace of pity, the brunette would lynch him.

Tony took pride in his ability to fend for himself—Steve could see that—but he was also deathly afraid of admitting any weaknesses, especially those that dealt close to come.

Nevertheless, he wanted to learn so much more regarding the other man. That's what they'll do tonight then, talk.

* * *

Tony handled pain much differently than others. When he could, he'd ignore it, when he _couldn't_ , he'd sit down and take a couple of deep breaths.

When he was younger (and his father could afford it) he'd go to the doctor for the pain. He was born with this condition where he had a hole in his heart. The doctor said that it would have been best if they had treated it when he was a baby, but that it had mostly closed now.

Regardless, on days where he'd exert himself, he'd have shortness of breath, sometimes severe pangs of pain directly above his chest. He always knew that he'd never fully recuperated from his congenital disability. It was the reason he didn't get into the army, it was the reason he could never participate in any of the block races when he was a boy, it was also the reason he worked in parts and not assembly. He really couldn't lift anything heavier than a fat child without feeling the strains of his heart. It has gotten better over the years as he'd learn techniques to keep his heart from beating faster than it should.

He never told anyone about this, not even Fury. Clint was the only one who knew the whole story as well as how to deal with it in case of an emergency.

 _This_ was that emergency.

"Clint, I think I'm gonna faint." Were the last words Tony uttered before he fell flat—like a stone.

ooOOoo

When Tony finally came to, he was laying down on a hospital bed, a white sheet separating himself from the other patients. He could tell it was one of the public hospitals, but on the upscale side.

He looked around a bit dazed as he tried to orient himself. He had fallen pretty hard, if the bruise on his shoulder was any indication. He had a soft, damp cloth on the top of his head cooling down the fever he didn't know he had.

 _I can't afford this, I need to get back to work_. He tried to say the words but his mouth wouldn't work, plus, his throat was too dry.

The curtain was slowly pulled back to reveal a cute nurse. She had a friendly smile and warm brown eyes. As if she had read Tony's mind, she brought with her a glass of water.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy. Last time I checked, you were asleep." She said quickly and quietly as to not to disturb the peace.

Tony shook his head and pointed to the water.

"Oh, here you go." She said, holding his head as he took slow sips of the liquid. "Better?"

"Much." Tony replied, clearing his throat slightly and slowly sitting up.

"Here, let me help." The nurse said, placing the glass on the small stand by the bed and lifting Tony gently to help him sit. "There's a man out there who has been waiting patiently, and quite nervously, for you to wake up. Another man was with him but he had to go. Should I tell him you're here?" The nurse asked, surprising Tony. So they had both come. Steve probably had to leave and get back to work. He was the type to pick duty over personal matters, and Tony didn't blame him. He knew that, in a pinch, he'd do the same. And it wasn't as if Tony was anything special to him or anything. Sure, they just started to _become_ something special, but Steve didn't owe him anything. He could understand if the blonde couldn't wait until he got up, all that matters is that he came too. He'd have to thank him later for his concern.

Now Clint, Clint would be missing work right now too… oh, why did he have to get sick again?

"That's probably my brother, yeah, he can come in." Tony said. Feeling a bit stronger, he lifted the glass to his lips and took another sip of the refreshing liquid.

"Sir, he said you could come in, but do be careful—he's still quite fragile." The nurse said as she ushered…

Tony almost let the glass slip through his fingertips as he realized how hard he'd psyched himself out of thinking that the mere _idea_ of Steve leaving him didn't play a huge role in his emotions.

"If that is all, I'll leave the two of you be. Please, take it easy sir." The nurse said, drawing the curtain back so they had some semblance of privacy.

"Steve-

"Tony, what…what happened?" Steve asked. Raw and unfiltered emotions poured out that one question and wrapped Tony up in a blanket of shivers. He was able to take a closer look at Steve and notice how disheveled he was; his hair stuck out in random places where he had probably tugged and pulled in worry, his lips were half chewed, his eyes puffy… boy, he was a mess!

And Tony couldn't be happier to see him.

"Steve… what are you doing here?" Tony asked, ignoring the first question.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked in reply, he was taken aback by the unexpectedness of it.

"I thought you had…"

"Left? Tony—Steve brought himself closer as his emotions overcame his rationality—I would _never_ leave you." Steve said, the way he emphasized never felt like a promise and Tony unconsciously latched on to that.

"I'm glad, I'm so very glad." Tony said, a bright smile overtaking his features as he realized how badly he had fallen for Steve. There was absolutely no way he would be getting out of this relationship alive.

Steve picked up one of Tony's hands and kissed each knuckle. "Tony, please tell me what happened. The first minute I was pushing parts into slots and the next I have Clint screaming at me to hurry. I find you on the floor and my first thought is that you're dead, you're dead and I didn't get to say how much I-

"Stop right there Steve, don't get ahead of yourself. We don't know what _this_ is yet…besides, we're not alone." Tony warned, looking towards the side where Steve and the Nurse had come in.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and pulled the white curtain back to reveal an empty room and a door that was left ajar—probably by the Nurse.

This day was just full of surprises, huh?

"Jesus Christ, I _really_ can't afford this. One more second in this hospital bed and I'll definitely be losing limbs." Tony looked up apologetically at Steve as he realized what he said. "Sorry."

Steve shook his head and walked over to the door to push it closed all the way. He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over to Tony's location.

"Don't worry about offending me right now, tell me what happened please." Steve implored, his baby blues shining.

"I wish we could sit here and chit-chat Steve, but I have to get back to work… I have to get out of this bed before I run myself into more debt." Tony said, almost falling over to get out of the bed.

"Please don't worry about that. Just sit back and rest, that's what the doctor ordered right?" Steve said, trying to pull Tony back into bed.

Tony looked around the room and then back at Steve.

"I don't need your charity Steve." Tony said (almost angrily) as the sudden realization hit him.

"It's not charity Tony, I did this because I care. I didn't know what was wrong with you so I opted in for the best." Steve said, defending his actions.

"I've done this before, with various levels of success, I don't _need_ the best." Tony said, more determined now to get out of the bed. He hated when people did nice things for him, it reminded him of the time… No, now wasn't the good time for him to be remembering the ugly past.

"I wanted to give it to you. I don't know why you're so afraid of accepting a little help, but I'm not looking for anything in return if that's what you're worried about." Steve said on the verge of hysteric. He couldn't believe that Tony was so hyper-focused on this one little detail that he conveniently overlooked the fact that Steve still didn't fully know what was going on.

"People don't normally do nice things for others without expecting something in return." Tony murmured, dipping his head down low. There it was, the memories he'd tried so hard to suppress over the past seventeen years, came flooding back into his conscious thought.

"I only want you to get better, nothing else." Steve replied, a bit calmer. He realized then that there was more to Tony than met the eye. Someone had broken his trust and he would find out what that was and rectify their mistake. He would make Tony trust again, trust in him.

Tony shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked up then and locked eyes with Steve.

"You're too nice for your own good. Why you ended up liking someone as broken as me, is incredible." Tony said.

"Well, I don't _like_ you really. It's more of a love-hate relationship." Steve said jokingly. He wasn't one for comedy, but he was trying to clear the anger from the air. It felt so charged, he wanted to get that feeling out of his skin and resume their regularly scheduled program.

Tony rolled his eyes and decided to let this unwarranted kindness slide just once. He justified it by telling himself that he was too weak to argue anyways.

"So are you finally gonna tell me what happened to you?" Steve asked after a couple of minutes.

Tony took a deep breath and a sip of his water. This would be the second person he'd tell the full story to so he had to get his facts in check.

"I was born with this hole in my heart, the doctors were surprised when I made it out alive. Back then, my father and mother had a little bit more money so they could afford a proper doctor to check on me when I was born. This hole eventually closed as I got older but, 'til this day, I can't do many things like run for extended periods of time, pick-up heavy boxes, anything too extraneous really. When America joined the war, I was picked, like many of the boys in our neighborhood, but I didn't even get past the screening." Tony said, leaving no stone unturned as he revealed all.

"That's… I've never heard of such a thing. How did the doctor's know exactly what it was?" Steve asked.

"Oh, something having to do with an odd number of beats, I'm not quite sure, I never truly asked for the exact details." Tony said, taking the last sip of his water.

"So what happened today, I'm sure you're extra careful when it comes to preventing this sort of stuff?" Steve asked, morbidly curious as to this new aspect of Tony's life.

"I am, I guess… with everything that's been going on lately, my body is trying to adjust. You have to understand that for most of my adult life, I've had very little troubles." Tony said unconsciously blaming Steve for all of his current stress.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm the cause of this. I never meant to… if I'd have known." Steve said, hanging his head.

"Hey, don't-don't do that. You didn't know and I'm not saying that it was entirely your fault. Let's say, 65%." Tony said, a small smile erupting from his face like an unexpected flower blooming in the winter.

"65%... if that's what you believe, then I'll gladly take the blame." Steve said, placing his hand in the general area of Tony's knee.

"Hey, come here, sit next to me." Tony said, scooting over to the side so there was enough room for the blonde to sit.

"Are you sure, wouldn't want to be responsible for taking 65% of your bed space." Steve teased as he sat on the bed. "What about your air, wouldn't want to be responsible for breathing 65% of it." Steve continued as Tony rolled his eyes.

"You're not gonna let that go are you?" Tony asked.

"I'll let 65% of it go." Steve said.

"Jesus Christ Rogers, it was a joke!" Tony exclaimed, slapping the blond lightly.

"And I found it 65% funny." Steve said, "Okay, I'm 65% percent done."

"Steve, I will have the nurse forcibly remove you if you don't stop." Tony threatened lightly.

"Okay, I'm done, for real this time." Steve said, leaning back against the wall.

Now that they were this close and in a comfortable light, Tony was able to fully make out the damage of Steve's left arm. He'd underestimated the scarring, it was jagged, ugly, and looked tender to the touch.

"I wonder if you were a different person would you have forgiven me so easily, I clearly deserved a punch to the face for what I said that first day we met. It was totally unwarranted." Tony said, lightly touching the length of one scar.

"You're still going on about that… I'm normally not one to resort to violence but, at that moment, I almost did. You hit a deep wound Tony, I didn't even know you then… I still don't really know you now." Steve admitted.

Tony could acquiesce, he didn't really know Steve either. "We should get to know each other then. I'd love to know more about you. Your hobbies, your fears, your weaknesses, your favorite food, colors, books… everything." Tony admitted, scooting closer and lightly grabbing Steve's mangled arm.

"I was thinking the same thing. Where should be start?"

ooOOoo

"Steven Grant Rogers. Yours?" Steve asked as he helped Tony with his food. Tony had insisted that he could feed himself, but was totally overpowered by both the nurse and Steve. They had gotten through a total of five questions before the nurse returned with Tony's food tray. She almost said something about Steve being on the bed but remembered that the gentleman had been in quite a tizzy when he first arrived, so she decided not to bother.

"Grant? What an All-American name, it's almost as if you were the poster-boy for an American citizen—your birthday being on July 4th is just icing on the proverbial US of A cake." Tony said, taking another bite. He felt like a baby, but was slowly growing accustomed to the feeling.

"Well, what's your full name?" Steve asked, waiting expectantly for Tony to finish his chew.

"Anthony Edward Stark." Tony admitted, he wasn't one for his first name—it is the main reason he shortened it.

"I can't really poke fun at that, it's quite regal, almost as if you should come from a long line of successful rulers." Steve said.

"Huh, the only thing that has been successful in my family is a long line of alcoholic fathers." Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"That's quite morbid." Steve replied, scooping another serving onto the fork.

"The truth is oftentimes bleak." Tony replied, opening his mouth expectantly.

Steve placed a small peck on Tony's cheek and then shoveled the food in his mouth so the brunette couldn't complain.

"Just because it's the truth doesn't mean it has to continue being the truth." Steve said.

"I don't get what you mean." Tony said, his face a bit flushed from the unexpectedness of Steve's affection.

"You don't seem much like the drinking type." Steve clarified.

"I was when I was younger." Tony admitted, slowly losing his appetite.

"What do you mean 'when you were younger,' how old are you?" Steve asked, coming to the realization this was information he didn't know.

"Twenty-seven, twenty-eight in May." Tony replied. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-Three, I could've sworn… well, Mr. Stark, you don't look a day over twenty." Steve said, surprised.

"You do realize that twenty-seven is not that old right?" Tony said incredulously, his pride suffering a little at the prospect of being labeled an old man by someone younger than him.

"I know… it's just that I thought… never-mind what I thought, what's your favorite color?" Steve asked, continuing their light back-and-forth interrogation.

"Red or gold, I can't ever decide. My father's was always red and my mother's was always yellow. I think I take from the both of them." Tony said, contemplating.

"Mine is blue, but I do border on red sometimes. I use it the most when I choose my color palette." Steve said, putting the plate away since it was finished. "Favorite past-time?" He then asked, returning to Tony's side.

"Reconstructing old equipment with my father when I was younger. He always returned the metal, but it was the one time I could be in his general vicinity and not get beaten. I also liked to climb the roof and look at the sky with Clint. Nowadays, I don't do much but work and sleep. You've kinda changed the pace for me a little bit." Tony said, deconstructing his life piece by piece and laying it bare in front of Steve for him to examine.

"You already know mine, painting. Before the war I would sit by a creek or a busy park and sketch. If it wasn't that I would go to outings with Bucky or run with my father. I don't know how it'll be when he returns, but I hope we can move past this mess." Steve said, getting comfortable on the bed.

"Any fears?" Tony asked, laying his head comfortably on Steve's shoulder. The blonde would normally dislike anyone putting too much pressure on his bad side, but Tony was being gentle and no amount of pain would make him ask Tony to move away.

"Two of them have already been realized, so all we have left is heights, snow-

"Snow? But you live in New York?" Tony questioned quizzically.

"I know, and I hate it. When I was about four or five I was caught in a mini-avalanche and was buried in the snow for about an hour. I didn't know what to do, no-one had seen me… it was a very terrifying experience. Since then I've hated the snow, but I've had to work through it, especially during the war. You couldn't really show any weaknesses on the battlefield." Steve said.

"Oh, I guess I see how that could traumatize a young child." Tony replied, slowly falling asleep. "My fear… I really only have one." Tony admitted, yawning into Steve's shoulder.

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?" Steve asked, expectantly.

"Maybe… one of these days… when I trust you." Tony said, finally losing the battle between wakefulness and sleep. On days where his heart condition got the best of him, he always became incredibly sleepy.

"Tony?" No response.

"What am I gonna do with you?" Steve asked into the ceiling.

A couple of minutes later the nurse returned to collect the tray and refill Tony's water.

"Sir, could I get you anything? You've been here since this morning and I feel bad." The nurse asked Steve as she noticed how comfortable Tony seemed on his shoulder.

"No, no, I'm okay for now." Steve replied courteously.

"Okay… if you don't mind me saying, you don't really look like his brother." The nurse said, tilting her head adorably to the side.

"Is that what he said, no I'm not his brother, I'm his…" But Steve found that he really couldn't continue the sentence because he already answered the question. That was it, that's what he was to Tony: his.

But the nurse was looking expectantly and Steve had stopped talking at quite an unusual spot. "I'm his friend, the other gentleman was his brother." Steve said, feeling odd calling Tony his friend when he knew that they were both much closer than that.

"Well, make sure that when he gets up he has that glass of water, he was quite dehydrated when he arrived this morning." The nurse said, giving Steve some orders as she left.

"Will do nurse…" Steve trailed off waiting for the woman to fill in the blank.

"Eleanor, Ellen for short." She said, sweetly.

"Thank you Nurse Ellen, I will call if he needs anything." Steve replied.

"Or you, for that matter." She corrected, leaving the room before he had time to reply.

"Or me, for that matter." Steve sighed, leaning the top of his head on Tony's own soft hair. He'd gotten to do what he set out to do today, albeit, under much more stressful circumstances. But an achievement was an achievement regardless of the way one took the steps to get it done.


	9. Habits Don't Develop Overnight

_Ch. 9 "Habits don't develop overnight, but in your case, it seems they have."_

 **Slight Trigger Warning: Nothing major, just be prepared to read some** _ **slight**_ **non-con (again, nothing major—I promise)**

* * *

Recovering from his congenital heart condition was always quite a struggle. It always took Tony a couple of days before he truly felt like himself again. But regardless, most of the time, he had no other choice. He refused to let this disability slow him down; made it his top priority to never miss work because of this, even if it meant struggling through the bouts of numbing pain.

"Steve, at least let me pay you back." Tony pleaded as he walked out of the hospital (with some help) and into Steve's car, the following day after the incident.

"You can start by sitting down and getting some rest. Just like the doctor ordered." Steve replied, settling into his own seat.

"Steve I'm serious, there has to be something I can do, even if it's not monetary…" Tony trailed off, knowing the full-implications that his words could potentially have and deciding to stop before they got out of hand.

"Let me paint you." Steve said quietly, he looked everywhere but in Tony's general direction as his embarrassment from the request reached his cheeks.

"Paint me?" Tony asked awkwardly.

"Yes, one of those paintings could go for hundreds of thousands of dollars, much more than what your medical bill was. Even if no one buys the painting, let me paint you...this time, with your consent." Steve asked, softly pleading with Tony.

"This doesn't feel like actual pay-back, it feels more as if I constantly allowing you to do something you've been meaning, or wanting, to do for a while." Tony grumbled as they left the parking space.

"So is that a yes?" Steve asked tentatively. Tony had to make up his mind quickly, since they were fast-approaching his home.

"I suppose, just as long as it's not one of those Greek paintings." Tony warned.

"I don't quite understand what you mean?" Steve asked, laughing nervously.

"Well… you know, those Greek paintings where all the people are either naked or semi-nude." Tony reminded, feeling stupid now for even mentioning it.

"No, nothing like that. Just a simple portrait." Steve promised.

ooOOoo

"I don't understand how those people could just sit there, immobile, for what feels like an eternity." Tony complained, he had been in the same position for the past three hours and both his back and neck were starting to ache. He was simply sitting there, in quite a lavish chair, but Steve would have a habit of reprimanding him if he moved so much as a muscle out of place.

"Those individuals exercised great patience and dignity when they were being painted. Just be glad I'm not asking you to stand." Steve said. He got quite bossy when he was painting; all work and no play, which gave Tony yet another insight into the blonde's persona.

"How much longer then?" Tony asked.

"Just a couple more minutes, I promise I'll be done soon." Steve said. "You know, for someone who's never done this before, you're quite good at it. Albeit with all the complaining." Steve continued as he finished the last couple of rough strokes.

"There, the painting is far from over, but you can get up now." Steve said, granting Tony the much needed freedom from the confines of the chair.

"May I see?" Tony asked, sauntering over slowly as he stretched out his limbs into the sky.

"Sure." Steve said, taking a step back to let Tony admire his work.

"You never cease to amaze me, this is great. You make me look superhuman, almost." Tony said, yelping in surprise when Steve wrapped his large arms around his waist.

"Won't you stay tonight?" Steve asked.

"Those paint fumes must be going to your head, are you serious?" Tony asked, skeptically. He turned his head to the side to get a better look at Steve's face.

"I'm completely serious. I feel like so much more could be accomplished if you stayed here." Steve quietly urged.

"Like what, why do I feel as if you're much more dubious than you let on?" Tony asked, smiling slightly in Steve's direction.

The blonde didn't answer, but rather, dipped his head to meet Tony's and placed a gentle kiss on his slightly-parted lips.

"Stay?" Steve pleaded softly, his bright baby-blues melting Tony's resolve like butter on a hot day.

"We have work tomorrow, I don't even have a change of clothes..." Tony said, bringing up excuses to get himself out of this situation.

"All that can be remedied, I have extra sets of clothing you can wear for the time being." Steve said, slowly turning the brunette around so he was facing Steve the entire way.

"What would I tell Clint?" Tony said as a last ditch effort to not be fully influenced by Steve's persuasive aura.

"He's not your guardian, plus, he'll see us tomorrow—he can put two and two together." Steve said, slowly dragging Tony out of the bright light and into the dark of the hallway.

"Clint has quite an overactive mind, I don't want him thinking things he shouldn't." Tony said, grasping at straws trying to find any excuse not to cave.

"And if he were to come up with something, what's the harm in that?" Steve rebutted. He took one good look at Tony and then sighed, letting go of his waist and taking a couple of steps back.

"I won't force you Tony, if you don't want to stay, you don't have to. I'm glad you came today though, it's always brighter when I have you near me." Steve confessed, giving Tony his space and his ultimatum.

"Uh-uh, you can't do that." Tony said pointing his finger and shaking his head.

"Do what exactly?" Steve asked, a small, mischievous smile encapsulating his features.

"You know what I'm talking about, telling me I can go, but guilt-tripping me into staying, it's starting to become a habit of yours." Tony said, willing Steve to disagree.

"Is it working?" Steve asked, always one to admit when he's defeated.

"Slightly… you jackass." Tony retorted, crossing his arms and sighing.

"So will you stay, I have all the commodities of your home: a bathroom, a bedroom, food, light. It's not that different you know." Steve asked, stepping close to Tony's frame and placing his hands on the brunette's shoulders.

"It's not that I'm not willing to stay because you lack resources… it simply is… I kinda' feel like we're moving just a tad bit fast." Tony admitted.

"We wouldn't do anything, I wasn't planning on doing anything. It's just that I want to make sure that you're safe and healthy as you recover." Steve confessed, hoping his words would penetrate Tony's steely resolve. He really truly wasn't planning anything dubious or outright obscene for them to do, he just wanted Tony near, even if it was in the same room, or if it was in the next room over.

"I've done this before Steve, it's not a foreign experience." Tony insisted, his fear for letting people help rising slowly from the depths of his mind.

"Why won't you let me help you? What is so frightening about the idea that I just want to keep you safe? What do I have to do to get you to trust me?" Steve asked, getting closer to the crux of the matter without even knowing it.

"It's difficult for me to believe that people simply do things out of the kindness of their hearts." Tony said, walking towards the living room and sitting on the sofa.

"I… I'm sorry." Steve said, defaulting to this response that's been ingrained into his brain since he was young.

"It's not your fault… it was his." Tony said, a slight shiver of disgust coursing up and down his back at random intervals.

"His…"

"You ask why it's so difficult for me to trust in you, to trust in anyone really. I'll tell you, but you have to die with this—you can't tell anyone." Tony cautioned, looking as serious as he could in their current situation. The bright fire that Steve had started when they had arrived, still burned brightly, casting long and dark shadows of the two bodies and other inanimate objects. It really set the tone for the rest of the story.

"I promise, if it's the last thing I do." Steve said, knowing this was the first step into learning more about Tony, learning something personal and probably traumatic. He knew that with this secret he'd be able to start a relationship on a sturdy and safe foundation, one that could withstand the demons of that past and the ghosts of the future. At least, he hoped it would.

Tony looked at Steve one final time, he still wasn't quite sure why he was telling him this. Maybe it was because they had spent all of yesterday talking about themselves, maybe it was because for the longest time he hadn't opened up to anyone, never allowed himself to explore his feelings beyond a glance, because the last time it had happened…

"I was ten and in school when one of the male teachers took an interest in me…" Tony stopped there, turning back around so he was fully facing the fire—he couldn't stand to look at Steve now, it would taint their relationship if he started to associate this story with Steve's face.

"He was younger than the other male professors, intelligent as well. He was our mathematics professor and he's one of the reason's I'm so good with numbers, even though you probably have never noticed that." Tony said, looking down at his hands and finding out that they were shaking. He clasped them in order to get them to stop, but he could still feel their slight tremors.

"It started out with small things, favors, light touches on my shoulder or my lap. I was the son of a poor, lower-class citizen—my father didn't have neither the time nor the money to pay attention to me. I… I guess I was selfish then too, I was happy someone (especially a male) was taking an interest in finding out more about me." Tony said, feeling disgusting for admitting this weakness.

"This was also the time I was starting to find out that I was much more different than the other boys… he was someone I could talk to, someone who would listen and not judge. I was so stupid, I was so—I don't know, I was so wrapped up in all that he was doing for me that I seemed to fall right into his hands." Tony stopped again and took a deep breath, he wanted to look at Steve, but he was scared, scared to find revulsion in his blue eyes, or disappointment. He couldn't live with himself if he saw those things in them. He wouldn't be able to finish.

"It was late one evening, he had asked me to stay and help him clean up the classroom. I was so happy to oblige, to do anything for him. He was the only friend I had, Clint was still too young to interact with at the time… I knew something was off that day when he started approaching me, touching me _constantly_. I didn't want it, I didn't he just—

"Tony, you don't have to continue." Steve whispered, his voice had wavered a bit as he said that. Tony turned his head, then, to find that Steve had been weeping silently.

"He didn't do it, he didn't do anything. He got close, he'd pushed himself against me, started taking my clothes off, but something must have wilted his resolve, something must have made him stop what he was doing. He let me go then and I ran as fast as my heart would let me." Tony reassured quickly, his entire body shaking as he recalled the amount of panicked adrenaline that had coursed through his veins at the time. "He wasn't there the next day, or the next week for that matter. I never found out if he had left, died, or killed himself… I never told the police, same as you, I didn't think they would believe me." Tony finished, hanging his head low.

"It's a good thing he's gone…" Steve grumbled with murderous intent.

"Steve, it's over now… nothing happened, nothing major anyways." Tony said, trying to calm the blonde down.

"It still doesn't excuse what he did! He violated you, took advantage of your trust!" Steve erupted, his voice filling with emotion as his brain tried to make sense of how such low pieces of shit like that could call themselves human.

Tony remained silent. He couldn't say much, he'd told Steve something he'd never dared tell anyone else. He still didn't know how he felt about that, but it did seem like a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I understand now." Steve said, a bit calmer this time.

Tony looked up, he was torn between regret and adoration. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to remain just friends… what, with me being more of a handful than you probably imagined." The brunette said, waiting for Steve's confirmation.

"Are you insane? Tony, I would never leave you. What you just told me makes me want to wrap you in my arms and never let you go, not until I'm sure that any ugly memories of the past have been dealt with." Steve said, he stood up just to get on his knees and waddle closer to Tony.

He was now facing the brunette, making sure he retained eye contact.

"I think I may have fallen in love with you." Steve whispered, his voice and eyes sincere as they looked on into Tony's brown ones. "I've fallen and I can't seem to get up. Call it hasty, call it rushed, but I know that people don't normally feel this strongly about someone unless it's hatred or love." Steve said, baring his soul for Tony to mold into what he saw fit.

"Are you sure it isn't lust?" Tony cautioned, taken a bit by surprise at Steve's constant display of affection.

"I've never been with anyone so I really wouldn't know, but I do know that in this moment all I want to do is spend the rest of my time with you. Even if it means never getting past a kiss." Steve replied, truly believing every word he said.

"You're a madman! That sounds like a miserable experience! I'd go insane if all we ever did was kiss." Tony said, smiling for the first time since the story.

Steve chuckled then, shaking his head. "Then call me crazy, because I'm serious. I won't push you Tony, never again. I'm not him." Steve said, making sure Tony absorbed every word.

"Thank God for that, I don't know what I'd do if you were." Tony said, relieved. "I'll stay, if you still want me to." Tony said, thinking it over. He'd asked Steve to prove to him that he could trust him, Tony would have to give him the chance to first.

"You don't have to." Steve said as sincerely as he could, even though deep down inside, he was elated at the idea of keeping Tony to himself for a couple more hours.

"I don't, but I want to. But first…" Tony trailed off, looking down at his stomach and then at Steve.

"Yes?" Steve asked, not quite understanding.

"I need some food, you've been keeping me hostage for the past two days and you haven't fed me anything since we left the hospital. I'm starving." Tony clarified.

"Sorry." Steve apologized, his cheeks reddening a bit as he stood back up and lead Tony into the kitchen.

He was able to quickly reproduce some food that would tie them over until tomorrow morning.

"I think I'll take a shower first and let you get comfortable with the surroundings. Here's my bedroom and through there, the bathroom." Steve said, pointing as they went around the back of the kitchen to another flight of stairs that led to Steve's room.

"You're really secluded from the rest of the house, aren't you?" Tony admired as he took in Steve's large room.

"I liked to be alone from time to time, we had the space, and my mother didn't really see the harm in that." Steve said, slowly stripping from his shirt and shoes. There was something else he wasn't admitting, but he didn't think it was apropos with everything they had been through already.

By the time he was unbuckling his belt he realized Tony was staring.

"Sorry, force of habit. I'll just change in the bathroom—

"Has anyone ever told you your body should be illegal?" Tony asked, perplexed on how such a muscular body could exists in such pristine condition, almost flawless in its nature.

"No." Steve said, properly blushing at the… he really wanted to call it a compliment, but he wasn't quite sure if it was.

"Well, let me be the first, your body should be illegal." Tony said, and with that, he simply turned around and sat into one of the nearby chairs, picking up a book that had been sitting on the table.

"Thanks, I suppose, I'm gonna take a shower." Steve said, stepping into the bathroom and allowing the stress of the two days to melt under the steam and hot liquid.

* * *

"How did you sleep?" Steve asked silently as the first tendrils of daylight shone through the slight spaces of his curtains. He had been awake for some time so he was quite aware when Tony had fallen asleep. It had been a bit of an ordeal to get the brunette in the same bed as him, he'd promised he wouldn't push but he couldn't keep himself restrained enough to _not_ ask Tony to "sleep with him." In retrospect he probably should have given the man his space, but it was the next morning and Tony hadn't left. Do with that what you will.

"Hm, what time is it?" Tony mumbled instead, pushing himself deeper into the warmth that was Steve's body. He was currently facing the other with the blonde's arms wrapped snuggly around his middle. Tony was comfortable, he wasn't gonna lie, but he wouldn't give Steve the satisfaction of knowing that, at least not yet.

"Let's see—Steve turned his head to look over at his alarm clock—it's just past six, we have about forty-five minutes before we have to leave." Steve replied, giving no indication that he was getting up anytime soon.

"I've never slept on such a soft bed before." Tony admitted, tracing the pattern on the duvet.

Steve didn't know how to reply, he could only imagine the life that Tony had lived when he was growing up. He'd be lying if he said he understood.

"It's different, not waking up and hearing the annoying squeak of the springs, or the shrill ring of the alarm." Tony continued, he tried not to imagine what his life would be like if he'd never had to work a day in his life, if everything had been handed to him on a literal silver platter.

"I don't normally set my alarm, I've got quite a solid internal clock and it hasn't let me down yet." Steve said.

"That's nice; I sometimes have trouble falling asleep, other times it's staying asleep." Tony wouldn't mention how it had been different this time, he didn't need to give Steve anymore cannon fodder.

They stayed quiet for a little bit more. It wasn't until the sun rose all the way that they both decided it was time to get up.

* * *

Clint had been worried the entire night that Tony had been absent from their apartment; he had returned to the hospital the same night but his brother had been knocked out. Steve told him that Tony had woken up and was overall okay; it was abundantly clear that he wasn't going to budge from Tony's side unless he absolutely had to.

"Well, if you have him, I'll go." Clint said, waving goodbye to his sleeping brother and his partner (was that too strong of a word?).

He would have gone to the bar, or to the club, had he been up for it. Every time Tony had one of his episodes, it was always a step closer to his death. Clint had never really known his own parents, Howard and Tony were the only family he ever truly had. When Howard died, Tony was the only person he knew. He had friends—he was actually quite popular at the factory—but they weren't Tony.

So he went home and decided to call it an early night.

He went to visit the hospital on his lunch break but the cute nurse had told him that Steve and Tony had left hospital about an hour ago.

He didn't think much of it at the time; Tony was a big boy, he could take care of himself. But that night, as he waited in his room for his brother to return, he began to worry. It became really bad around midnight when he realized that if anything happened to Tony, he wouldn't be able to reach him in time.

It took everything it had in him not to run to the police and report his brother as missing.

That morning he left the house an hour early, almost running to work, hoping that there was some sign ( _any sign_ ) of Steve and Tony. But he had gotten there early for naught, they weren't there. So he waited, patiently for his brother to return.

When he saw the brunette finally enter the doors to the factory all his worry from yesterday and the day before culminated and he probably reacted a bit more irrationally than he should have.

"Stark, where the hell were you last night?!" Clint asked, looking between the two for an explanation.

"I… Clint, are you okay?" Tony asked, never before seeing his brother so angry before. Clint was normally quite civil, if not a complete asshole, but he was never outright _serious,_ let alone angry _._

"I was waiting all of yesterday for you to show up, I almost filed a missing-persons report! Why didn't you tell me you wouldn't be home?" Clint asked.

"Hold on, last time I checked, I could take care of myself." Tony reminded Clint.

"There you go again, this isn't about your self-esteem issues Tony, this is about telling your brother where you would be before you left me to assume the worst." Clint retorted, getting hot in the face. He was always so sick of Tony twisting everything to be about himself and his fragile ego.

"Wait, Clint, it was my fault—I forgot to tell you that I had plans to take Tony over to my place." Steve said, trying desperately to dissuade the oncoming argument. He could see people starting to gather around them, wondering what all the fuss was about.

"No, Steve, you don't have to apologize to him. He's not my fucking babysitter." Tony said, walking away from Clint and terminating the argument.

"Fine! But the next time you collapse from carrying the groceries up the stairs, don't expect me to be there and help you!" Clint exclaimed to Tony's retreating back. It was a cowards excuse and he probably should have kept his mouth shut, but at the moment, he couldn't wrap his mind around rationality, so he drew inspiration from emotion instead and said the first thing that came to mind. He'd apologize later… at least he thinks he will.

* * *

"Tony, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean… I didn't mean for you to get into a fight with your brother." Steve apologized as they walked over to the clock-in area. That had been an unexpected turn of events and he was quite certain that part of it was his fault.

"Screw him, he's an asshole anyways. What, does he think he's the only one entitled to leave the house for extended periods of time?" Tony asked, rhetorically. He was fuming from the last jibe, he hated to seem weak to his co-workers, and especially to Steve. He knew his limitations, besides, that incident had only happened once… or three times.

"Tony, I think he was just worried." Steve said, trying to smother the angry flames that had burst out of nowhere.

"I'm not made out of porcelain or-or glass for that matter. I can take care of myself." Tony said, rubbing his chest, a cruel reminder of his ailment.

"No one is questioning that, but Tony—Steve turned the shorter man around to face him—you're hubris will be your downfall."

"Are you saying I can't be trusted with my own well-being?" Tony asked icily, a sudden shift of emotions from the burning rage from before.

"No! But sometimes, even you, have to learn when to admit defeat. He wasn't trying to humiliate you back there, he was just _worried_." Steve said, emphasizing the word.

"Would you have reacted the same?" Tony asked seriously.

"Worse. I can't stand the idea of you being in danger or hurt." Steve said, a bit more hushed since they were in a public place.

"I guess I can't fault him then." Tony said, looking down at his balled fists. He took a deep breath and let the tension go. He wasn't ready to see Clint yet, but at the very least he wasn't angry anymore.

ooOOoo

"It was nice having you over for the night, Tony." Steve said, sighing forlornly as he held one of Tony's hands on the drive home. He was so giddy with this newfound love that everything else, even the ugliness from this morning, seemed to fade away when they were alone together. But he was also cognizant of the fact that it couldn't always be that way, that one day they'd be separated for reasons beyond their control, he just hoped they be able to get back to each other when that happened.

"Like you always say, it doesn't have to end." The brunette said, catching wind of what Steve was _actually_ trying to say.

"Really?" Steve asked skeptically, looking over to his right for a second.

"What can I say, your bed was comfortable." Tony said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm going to have to go back to my apartment though. If it's alright with you, I'd rather not have to wear your clothes from five years ago." Tony said, knowingly or unknowingly giving Steve a bone.

As they pulled up to the apartment, Steve stopped Tony before he exited the vehicle.

"You don't have to do this." Steve reminded him.

"You sound like a broken record Steve, keep talking like that and I'll assume you don't _want_ me to stay." Tony challenged, looking at the blonde pointedly.

"You know I want you to." Steve said, almost a pained expression on his face at the thought of leaving Tony behind.

"Then let me go." Tony said, looking at his arm.

"That's impossible, but I know what you mean." Steve said, chuckling to himself.

ooOOoo

"So you actually showed." Clint said, his hands crossed across his chest as he looked Tony up and down.

"Yeah, but not for long." Tony replied, picking up one of his travelling bags (it wasn't much really, just an old duffle bag) and placing articles of clothing and other items within its confines.

"Tony…" Clint trailed off, losing his courage to actually tell Tony what he wanted to.

"Yes?" The brunette stopped his hasty packing and stood up to listen to his brother.

"I… I'm really sorry about today. I never should have said the things I said like that. I was just worried, we've been together since I was a baby; I mean, you practically raised me! I just… you don't leave the house unless I force you so I just found it odd that you weren't here last night. That's all." Clint said, he'd had the whole day to think his words over and he had come to the conclusion that he had been kind of a little twat.

Tony took a second to think of his reply. This had been their first argument in what seemed like forever, he really didn't know how to respond to that.

"I forgive you, asshole or not you're still my brother. Nothing will ever change that." Tony said, as sincerely as he could.

Clint shook his head but knew that all would be okay between the two of them. "So… you're staying over at his house already. How's _that_ working out for ya'?" Clint teased, and just like that, they were back to their regularly scheduled bullshit.

* * *

 **A/N: Hopefully the trigger warning was enough, now we know why Tony is so reluctant to let Steve in, hopefully the blonde can fix it before long.**


	10. The Rest of Our Lives

**Sorry for the cliché-as-hell joke that's about to happen in this chapter, you've been warned, don't groan too hard!**

* * *

Tony wasn't quite sure how it had happened, he was only supposed to stay with Steve for a couple of days, two or three at the most. Then three became five, five became a week, and a week became a month, until it was now the middle of October and Steve had made sure to make it a habit for Tony to stay an extra night. They were both still only sleeping in the same bed, nothing scandalous had happened in all those days. Tony wasn't sure if it was because Steve was waiting for him to make the first move or _he_ was waiting for Steve to make the first move. It wasn't hard to see that the more time they spent in each other's company the harder their kisses became and the harder it was to separate.

"Could you turn your chin a bit to the left please, and up?" Steve asked as Tony stood there, holding a scepter and orb with a king's robes draping delicately over his body.

"Steve, I fell ridiculous." Tony complained as he followed Steve's instructions.

"You _look_ like royalty; really Tony, one of these day we're gonna have to track your family history and see if you don't come from a long line of kings and queens." Steve said from behind the canvas expressing the same opinion he had had in the hospital.

"Wouldn't that be a treat?" Tony said a bit flattered.

Steve looked back at Tony just in time to catch the color appearing on the brunette's cheeks. Something tugged deep within, making his brush waver a bit.

"Uh, take five." Steve said suddenly, as he placed his color palette and brush hastily on the desk next to him.

"Is everything okay?" Tony asked placing the props on the nearby chair. That Sunday morning they'd been digging through Steve's mom's old things and found boxes, filled to the brim, with props and costumes for, what he assumed, the many paintings she used to make.

"What? Yeah, yes. Everything, everything is fine." Steve said, a bit flustered. He wiped his hands on his painter's shirt, smearing the fabric with the paint that had accumulated on his hands.

"Come on, tell me what's up. Did I pose awkwardly? I'm not used to this much weight on my head." Tony said, apologizing for his assumed mistake. He pointed to the crown on his head, faulting it as well.

"No, no, it's just…" Steve couldn't bring himself to say that he thought Tony looked absolutely irresistible when he blushed, not only would the brunette castrate him, but he'd feel emasculated as well.

"Yes?" Tony asked, a bit impatient. Steve had stopped so suddenly, he wondered if something had gone wrong.

"Thank you for this. I've always had to draw from imagination or copy my mom's work, with this, with _you_ , I feel as if I'm improving in leaps and bounds." Steve said. Although all of that was true, it wasn't the real reason he'd stopped.

"I have nothing better to do." Tony said, shrugging his shoulders and returning to his position by the chair.

Steve wondered what else he could say to get that beautiful rose to bloom on Tony's cheeks again.

"I'm serious though, about you being related to royalty. The way the clothes fit you so well, your sharp features. Imagine what you would be had you been born in the correct family? The envy of every man and the desire of every woman." Steve said, it wasn't quite working, Tony only kept scoffing and rolling his eyes.

"It's not healthy to deal in what-ifs for very long." Tony reprimanded. He'd thought about it sometimes, when his mind wouldn't let him sleep, he'd wondered what it could have been like if Steve and he had their lives switched, would they have still met somehow? He thought about it more now that he was surrounded by such luxuries as hot water and constant electricity, a soft bed, and privacy.

"It doesn't hurt either." Steve said, a bit disappointed that he couldn't find the magic words to trigger those cheeks to brighten.

An idea started brewing in his head and he waited, until he was sure Tony wasn't expecting any more talking, to execute it. "One of these days I may have to perform a study on you." He said, as calmly as he could, his eagerness would only get him in trouble.

"What exactly is a study?" Tony asked, he wasn't necessarily privy to all of these art terms Steve seemed to hurl at him on a daily basis.

"It's where you pose, much like you're doing now, but nude—Steve tried to keep as neutral face as he could as he said this—it helps teach the artist how the body connects without the constraints of clothing." _Bingo._

"Well, I-I think you're good enough an artist as it is, no need to see me naked!" Tony replied flabbergasted, he'd almost dropped the orb when Steve mentioned nudity. "Besides, I told you no Greek paintings." Tony reminded.

"It's not necessarily a painting, it's a study." Steve clarified, smiling on the inside, his mission was accomplished and he could finally add the hint of redness on the painting's cheeks.

"Painting, study, whatever. No nudity." Tony said, almost as if warning Steve not to cross a line.

"Okay, it was only a suggestion. I guess I'll just find someone else then." Oh this was just too easy, he didn't mean to _play_ with Tony's emotions… he just simply liked the physical outcome.

"You wouldn't dare, besides, where would you find people like that to volunteer?" Tony asked, feeling his embarrassment all the way down to his fingertips.

"Plenty of art academies in New York, I could fly to Paris when the war is over—there the men aren't so prudish." Steve didn't mean that, of course, he was just trying to get a rise out of Tony; it was all meant to be for fun.

"You think I'm prudish?" Tony asked, shocked to find that Steve may be right. Is that why they hadn't gone past a kiss?

"What? No, no—

"You think I'm _prudish_ , Jesus Christ!" Tony cursed, putting the scepter and orb down on the ground and removing his crown. "I'll show you _prudish_."

"Wait, Tony, I'm sorry. Hey, where are you going?" Steve asked, he'd pushed the brunette too far, hadn't he. He sighed and started to pack up his paints for the day, Tony wasn't gonna let him finish his painting after that.

Tony returned a couple of minutes later with the king's robe wrapped tightly around his body.

"Tony, I'm sorry okay? I was kidding about the whole prude thing." Steve said, trying sincerely to apologize, meanwhile, the brunette was positioning himself on the chair, one leg draped across the armrest and the other held close to his chest. He let the robe fall open, revealing nothing but flesh.

It was now Steve's turn to turn red, beet red actually.

"Go on, study me… like one of your French men." Tony insisted (more like challenged) Steve. The blonde was speechless for a couple of seconds as his brain restarted.

Seeing a bunch of naked bodies in the showers in the middle of training was one thing, but seeing the object of your affection draping themselves languidly and provocatively merely inches away from you was another thing entirely.

Steve walked (he was finding it hard to do just that) back slowly behind the canvas, picked a blank one, and slowly started tracing the lines of Tony's body with his brush.

He shouldn't get too accustomed to this, Tony was only trying to prove a point now, but when his pride wore off he'd demand Steve destroy the painting, which he should probably do regardless; if anyone ever found this…

But he couldn't find the will within himself to stop placing delicate brushstrokes upon the canvas. He was also finding it difficult to keep his composure, he'd much rather be worshiping the body with his hands than his paint, but alas, he knew they weren't ready to cross that bridge yet.

Steve found himself constantly ogling Tony's physique, he looked good, better than good. His mind was too muddled to function and think of better words. But in all actuality, Tony was quite the looker, he had a toned body which probably came from hard work and little resources, he kept himself groomed (much like Steve), so his chest was smooth and free of blemishes. Really, the man was perfect.

"Are you going to paint or just keep staring?" Tony asked, breaking Steve out of his reverie. The blonde knew he was spacing out, but he hadn't noticed it had gotten that bad.

Tony, on the other hand, was faking his bravado. Once the initial jolt of adrenaline and irrational thought process that had gone into stripping was gone, he was left with nothing but a huge lump in his throat and between his legs.

He was so nervous it took everything in him to keep his shivering at a minimum. He'd wanted to prove a point, but now he was doing the same thing he'd told Steve to never ask of him.

It wasn't as if Steve had pushed him into doing this, he himself had. All to show Steve that he wasn't a goddamned _prude._ However, even in this current predicament, he kept himself quite conservative. He wasn't really exposing himself, more of a tease really, but it was there… the possibility.

For the next two hours, it was a constant never-ending silence that was as charged with sexual tension as much as it was awkward. They hadn't talked for the entire time, the trance only broken when Steve spoke up first.

"I'm… I'm done." He said, with some difficulty. He wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to keep his composure, much less his cool. He was at the brink of exploding, both physically and mentally. Tony had literally assaulted his senses and he hadn't woken up today ready to face that.

Tony tried not to pull the robe too hastily and undue whatever stance he'd succeeded in making earlier. "I'll go changed and then I'll come look at it." He said, walking away into one of the guest rooms where he had taken the king costume off. His regular clothing was also in there since he'd brought them down earlier.

Steve still stood, quite still, staring at the space Tony had occupied. He tried to shake himself out of the dreamlike state but the only other thing he could look at was his rendition of reality; which didn't hold a candle to the real thing, by the way.

Tony returned, fully clothed, and walked over to the painting. He wasn't as embarrassed as he thought he'd be seeing himself in such a lewd position. Steve really did have a gift for this sort of thing, however.

"I need to wash this paint off before it dries permanently on my fingers." Steve said, stepping around Tony so he could go to the kitchen sink.

The blonde scrubbed hard at his shaking hands. He gripped the kitchen sink but couldn't quite get a hold of himself or the shivers coursing down his spine. Jesus, it's like he's never seen a naked body before! And he has, plenty of them. They just weren't Tony's…

Steve took a deep breath, then another, until his heart didn't feel like it was exploding in his chest with each beat. He paid close attention the paint stuck underneath his nails, if he didn't get them out now, they would stay there forever.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, sneaking up on the blonde and simultaneously giving him a heart attack.

"Yeah, why?" Steve asked gripping at the sink once more, this time to steady his mind.

"You've been muttering to yourself for the past couple of minutes and I was starting to worry for your health." Tony admitted, putting down the used painting cans. He'd seen Steve do this enough times to have the system down and memorized.

"Have I?" Steve asked still looking down at his hands. He was quite terrified to look at Tony, he didn't _want_ to look at him like that… he would never forgive himself if this one incident ruined their perfectly normal relationship.

"Don't tell me I spooked you with my brashness." Tony said nervously. He was also on the fritz, but he was more adept at hiding it.

"What? No, no. That's perfectly normal… to uh… to pose like that." Steve said biting his lip and clutching at the sink counter yet again. Maybe _he_ was the prude…

"You're shaking." Tony whispered, tracing a single finger down Steve's flexed bicep. Goosebumps followed Tony's trail like a tail, making Steve shake even harder as his knees found it difficult to keep him standing.

"You're quite the tease, you know that?" Steve asked, almost angrily emptying the paint cups into the sink and washing the paint from the brushes.

"I didn't, what with having no one ever say that to me before." Tony said, hopping up onto the counter.

"Well let me be the first." Steve said, abandoning the rest of the plates and securing a position between Tony's thighs.

The brunette looked down, having a head and a quarter on Steve's height.

"I think you'll be the first for a lot of things." Tony replied, coquettishly. He brought his arms around Steve's shoulders, still not believing his luck. How had he managed to remain in the blonde's good graces? He was a nobody compared to the man, he had no money, no lineage, definitely no honorable discharge from the army; how was he supposed to compete with him?

Well, it wasn't really a competition was it, and Tony couldn't help where he was born, could he?

"I hope that's a fact, Mr. Stark." Steve asked, hungrily looking into Tony's brown eyes. There was an untapped passion there, in both their eyes. They were still too afraid to progress any more than a kiss, but it burned there, quietly, behind the scenes like a snake waiting to strike.

"As factual as I can recall it." Tony said before dipping his head and giving Steve a long awaited kiss. Apart from the fact that they shared a bed together, this was the most physical contact they had had in quite some time. They were both pretty tame in all aspects, they feared unseen eyes were monitoring their every move so they kept careful and brief.

The blonde brought his hands to rest atop of Tony's thighs, slowly making their way up the muscle until they made their way under his shirt and around the brunette's hips. The skin-on-skin contact made Tony shiver and gasp slightly, he wanted nothing more than to continue this venture and see where it headed. But he couldn't, he was ultimately too scared. Terrified to move on and not be able to step back from it.

Tony stilled the blonde's hands as they made their way up his spine.

"Sorry." Steve said, leaving the kiss and the comfort of Tony's embrace.

"Wait no, I didn't mean for you to stop. Just… slow down. We don't have to go through with anything just yet, do we?" Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. Deep down he knew the answer to that question, but he was afraid to admit it. It was always fear with him, wasn't it?

"Yes, no, of course not. I'm content with just having you around. You've made my transition back into society a smooth one, and I cannot thank you enough." Steve said, resuming the dishes. He'd ruined it! Stupid… eager hands! Ugh, why did he have to be so immature?

"But that's not enough." Tony said, looking down at his hands and balling them into fists.

"It is, don't think that it's not because it's everything and more." Steve said, he would be lying if he said he wouldn't like more, wouldn't be craving more every time he had Tony's back pressed against his chest, the way he fit smoothly against the shape that he made. Like a lock and key.

"Don't lie; you're disappointed." Tony said hopping off the counter. He couldn't keep sitting up there like a petulant child, he had to stand up like the man he was.

"How can I be disappointed? You seem to forget that you're my first for many things too." Steve reminded kindly. The blonde shook his head at Tony's antics, how he wished he could see inside that brain of his and figure out how it operated!

"You seem much more prepared to move forward than I do." Tony pointed out. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it just left him feeling a bit inadequate, considering he was the older of two.

"I can't blame you for wanting to take things slow." Steve whispered into his chest. He scrubbed a particular spot on the cup just a couple of more times so he wouldn't have to face Tony head on.

It clicked in Tony then why Steve was virtually walking on eggshells around him. "You… are you holding back because you think I can't take it?" Tony asked incredulously. It all made so much sense now, the way Steve would make sure to keep his body still and rigid as they slept, or the way he kissed as if he were trying to keep an apple from falling from his mouth, but trying to keep it unblemished at the same time.

"Tony, you're always jumping to conclusions, why can't it simply be that I want what you want?" Steve said, turning around to finally face the disgruntled man.

"Everybody in my life has either treated me like dog-shit or tried to handle me like porcelain; there's never an in-between. So tell me Steve, which side on the fence are you on?" Tony asked, crossing his arms around his chest, daring Steve to say something out of line.

"I'm not calling you breakable Tony, but you are vulnerable. Everything I say you take it as an insult to your manhood. I _know_ you're not fragile, I've never thought of you as weak, but even you have to admit that there are certain things you can't do. Regardless of your past." Steve said, trying to reason with the storm.

"You sound just like Clint." Tony said, kissing his teeth.

"Then maybe he's right. You're too caught up in defending yourself when that is the last thing you should be doing. I'm not pushing you, because I think you'll break, it's because you told me to stop and I promised I'd never do anything to hurt you again." Steve said. He hated having these discussions with Tony, much less repeat the same three things over and over like a never-ending-loop.

"Who said I wanted you to stop?" Tony said, feigning bravery. He brought out his chest in an indignant manner, but you could see, clearly, that it was all an act. His heart was beating at dangerous levels and he wasn't sure if he could stop it in time.

"Now you're just pulling my leg." Steve said chuckling and returning to the last set of dishes.

"I'm not kidding." Tony said, almost like a fierce promise. He wanted to prove to Steve that he was stronger than his past, that he could take whatever the blonde was willing to give.

"Yes, I know Tony. But there is no need for your bravado, I think you've proved yourself enough already." Steve said, recalling the painting.

"It's not about proving myself dammit, it's about proving it to you! To everyone, why can't you just see that?" Tony asked, throwing his arms up in a desperate plea to get the blonde to understand him.

Steve dried his hands on a towel and sighed, turning around to face Tony again. He placed a delicate hand on the brunettes face and let a small smile overtake his features.

"Tell me you're ready and we'll do whatever you want right now. Just say those three words 'I am ready' and I'll never hold back on you again." Steve said, never once taking his eyes off Tony. He really wasn't sure where these words were coming from, maybe it was some inert manual that only presented itself when it was needed, or maybe he'd always known what to do and now was his chance to prove it.

Tony, on the other hand, was stumped. On one hand he wanted to continue, to say those words and be done with it. But his brain wouldn't let him, he was far too calculative to simply go with this, he was impulsive _not_ stupid (though he did seem to get those two confused on several occasions).

Steve sighed, bringing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. "Don't worry about it now, okay, when you're ready—when _we're_ ready, the time will present itself." Steve said, giving Tony a small kiss and the rest of their lives to think it over.

* * *

 **A/N: Aww, Tony scwawed! I'm just kidding, he's terrified!**


	11. More Than Meets the Eye

Tony thought Steve's words over and over in his head like a mocking refrain. When he was ready…

He felt ready! I mean, he _thought_ he did. Each time he went to bed with Steve and woke up the next morning he wanted so much to prove himself capable of doing anything Steve hurled at him, but as soon as the blonde opened his eyes and smiled a good morning at him, his resolve crumbled and all he could do was murmur a good morning back.

He tried to find the root cause to his distress, he knew his past played a huge role with his emotions, he also knew that he was scared to move forward. Right now it was easy to pretend that he and Steve were just _very_ good friends (women did it all the time, now more so that the men were gone), but that wasn't really the case, now was it.

He sighed into his gloves, Clint catching drift of something amiss with his brother.

"Trouble in paradise?" Clint teased, leaving his station to stand next to him.

"No, no…" Tony said, sighing again. He knew that Clint would laugh at him for such concerns, it wasn't as if _he_ had any problems engaging in pre-marital coitus.

"Mh hmm, so what is it now? Did Steve say/do something stupid?" Clint asked, trying to get an answer from his tight-lipped brother.

"Why does it always have to be Steve's fault?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Isn't it always?" Clint said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Har, har, no, this time it isn't so much something he did but more so something he _didn't_ do… or _I_ didn't do." Tony confessed, his cheeks brightening at the thought of revealing something so personal about himself.

"I don't quite get your meaning." Clint said, scratching his head in confusion.

"Funny thing is, neither do I." Tony said, morosely.

ooOOoo

"Steve!" Tony exclaimed as he jumped out of his skin. The blonde had caught him by surprise in the locker room at their workplace. It was quitting time, but people were still mingling about. The blonde had approached him and wrapped his two arms around his waist.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, looking around frantically for any eyes who cared to glance over their way.

"I missed you." Steve murmured, putting a soft peck on Tony's neck.

"You see me every day." Tony reminded, a small smile overtaking his lips nonetheless.

"I know, but it's boring on the other floor." Steve said, slowly letting go of Tony, his fingertips the only thing remaining before he fully removed them as well.

"Then transfer over to mine." Tony suggested, turning to his locker to remove his coat and daily shoes. He would take a shower in Steve's house, that's what they've been doing since Tony unofficially moved in.

"I can't do that, then I'd really get no work done. Besides, Fury put me in there for a reason." Steve said, going over to his locker and doing the same thing as the brunette.

"Am I that distracting?" Tony asked, innocently but his smile was impish and his eyes were mischievous.

"Obviously." Steve replied, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry." Tony said, not really sorry at all. Steve shook his head and motioned towards the door. "Are we ready to go?" Tony asked, closing his locker.

"Yeah, if you are that is." Steve said.

They left the locker room, walking to the nearest exit were the Model T was parked. They entered the vehicle and went home. Today had been as normal of a day as it could be, Tony tried not to get too comfortable, anytime it seemed like everything was going to be okay, tragedy seemed to strike. It may be that the universe isn't quite content with letting you live your life peacefully.

* * *

That Sunday Tony became curious as to what else the giant house had to offer; he was alone now since Steve had gone out earlier to purchase some much-needed groceries. Tony had offered to come, but Steve said he had wanted to go alone. Nothing against Tony, it was just simply that grocery shopping was a strange art to him and so he wanted to experience it alone, this once, or some bullshit like that—Tony couldn't be bothered to remember.

After thirty minutes of wondering around, he realized just exactly what Steve had been talking about when he said the house was too big. He felt as if he were under the scrutiny of all the paintings, he had tried to read a book but, he felt that the quiet and the many eyes were slowly driving him insane. He put some music on in order to calm down his skyrocketing nerves.

That is when he gained the great idea to start exploring. He tried many doors, most of them locked. The ones that were open either contained bedrooms, bathrooms, or some form of storage unit.

He climbed many flights of stairs, finally making it to the attic where many items were covered with white cloths. The large round window illuminated the space, giving it a ghostly gloom as he glided his fingers across some of the surfaces, coming back with a handful of dust. He walked around some more, deathly curious as to what all the white sheets contained.

The window was at the front of the house, letting him see when Steve would arrive. He should have learned from his mistake last time, but what was the harm in uncovering old furniture?

He started with the nearest thing to him.

At first glance it just looked like a dresser, but he's been around the contraption many times in his youth back when his father would fix broken ones to know exactly it was. It was Regina box, or a 'Reginaphone.' He was very excited to get it started again!

He opened the top and cranked the handle, with the disk already inside all he needed to do was flip the switch. He did so and with great disappointment found that the instrument wouldn't move.

He sighed, bringing his hands to his hips and tapping his leg. He removed the disk from the contraption, looking at the inside. Nothing seemed overtly wrong with it at a glance. Then he noticed that when he cranked the handle, the rotating mechanism would get stuck and stop spinning. He figured it probably needed oil or something; he, very excitedly, ran downstairs and looked through the kitchen compartments to see if he could find some oil that would be suitable for the metal. He found cooking oil and figured, that in a pinch, it would be good enough.

Tony made the trek back upstairs and very carefully dabbed the mechanism with the oil. He then returned the disk to the machine and cranked the Reginaphone, to his delight the music erupted and he began to smile. It was like a giant orchestral music box! He looked at the disk to see exactly what song was playing. 'The Luna Waltz, 1899' eight years after he was born.

He cranked the contraption again after it was done, reveling in the sweet sound of the machine. He then walked around the room uncovering other devices and furniture. There were old desks, dressers, vanities, chairs, and so much more. You could fully furnish another house with the amount of unused furniture in the attic of the Rogers house. Once the song finished again he looked underneath the closet compartment at the bottom and found about twenty more disks. He chose one and random and replaced it, extremely content in listening to the music of his youth.

He went further into the attic, he removed the tarps of many square-shaped objects, realizing after revealing them that they were paintings. Hundreds of them stacked against the wall, Tony wondered what they were all doing there, shouldn't they be downstairs with the others?

There was a big tarp that caught his eye in the corner of the room, it was the largest he'd seen so far, he ignored browsing through the other paintings to uncover this one. When he revealed it he found there the largest painting he'd ever seen. It was of a beautiful blonde woman with the most piercing blue eyes. She reminded him greatly of someone, so much so that he almost felt compelled to embrace her. He looked around for a signature, a name tag, anything to elucidate that weird desire.

Close to the bottom lay his answer, it all became clear then, why she looked so familiar.

"Sarah Rogers." Tony said, he figured that she was probably Steve's mom and that the other paintings must be hers. Now he was incredibly excited to look through them, and figure out why her masterpieces where cooped up in the attic and not shown off.

But first, he had to change the disk.

He returned to the paintings with renewed vigor, he started with the first pile. Nothing extremely abhorrent about the first one, it was simply a scene of a girl overlooking a creek. The second one was a bit more bizarre, it featured the same girl at the creek, but next to her lay a body; he'd never seen a dead body before, but he imagined that it would look something like that. It only became stranger from there.

As he went further into the back of the pile, he noticed a consistent pattern. About every five paintings there would a repeat of a new one with slight variations of the last, the first one he encountered (of the girl) had a last painting with nothing but red for the color palette; as he was nearing the end of another pile he noticed that this one had nothing but blue for its color palette. There was something disturbing about the paintings, and now he kind of wished he hadn't uncovered the painting of Mrs. Rogers. Her eyes, which were so strikingly blue against her yellow dress, looked at him as if he were trespassing on some of her most private works.

A strong bout of shame and disgust for himself hit him and he stopped momentarily to regain his breath. He shouldn't have been doing this, not without Steve's permission at least. This wasn't his house, regardless of how long he had lived here, being with Steve didn't give him the right to snoop around like a low-lying thief.

He went to recover the tarp when he noticed the other pile and its first picture. Just a simple picture of a girl (it always seemed to be a blonde girl) sitting by a window and nothing else. His morbid curiosity got the best of him and he kept browsing through the other paintings. As they progressed he noticed a strange black spot at the corner of each painting, he thought it may have been a mistake at first, but as the paintings progressed he noticed the black spot growing larger and larger. The second to last painting had the spot taking up half the canvas and the little girl had finally turned around (mind you, this had been a stack of twenty paintings or so). The last painting was the same of the first, however, it was missing a crucial part: the little girl.

Tony gasped silently and let the paintings fall back against the wall. As he did so, he heard the tell-tale signs of gravel hitting the tires and an engine approaching. He ran to cover up all the tarps he had torn down with his eagerness. He found that he couldn't cover the largest painting of Sarah Rogers. He left it then, hoping that Steve didn't have any reason to come towards the attic and check out his mother's painting before he could cover it.

He ran back downstairs, ready to meet Steve by the door.

"Welcome back." Tony said, his cheeks red from the exhaustive running around.

"Have you been up to something naughty?" Steve asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow when he immediately took in the state Tony's face was in.

"No." Tony replied, but his voice cracked as he said it and his cheeks grew even redder as a consequence. "Do you need any help?" Tony asked noticing the many paper bags Steve carried in his right hand, his left hand was empty, Tony could only imagine it was because it was too much of a burden to carry anything in that one.

"No, no… what did you do?" Steve asked, stepping into his house worried now, did Tony set something on fire?

"I… I just… I may have tried to-to um…" But Tony couldn't think of a convincing lie, he was stuck for words. Jesus, why had he been so eager to rush towards the door, knowing full well his face would give him away.

"Come on, I won't bite." Steve urged, walking towards the kitchen. He placed the groceries down on the counter, starting to separate the ones that needed to go in the cooling box and the ones that could be left out.

"I missed you." Tony tried to say instead. It was a poor excuse, but it made Steve laugh.

"I missed you too Tony." Steve said shaking his head and smiling. The house seemed okay otherwise, nothing too out of place. So what could the brunette be hiding? "As long as nothing was broken, if you don't want to tell me what it was, I won't pressure you." Steve continued, he must have been doing something mischievous if he didn't want Steve to find out what it was… Steve really needed to get a bar of soap and scrub his brain clean from all the thoughts that bombarded him on a daily basis.

"The opposite really." Tony murmured, sighing in relief.

"What?" Steve asked, confused.

"Nothing!" Tony replied quickly, helping him with the rest of the groceries.

"Okay." Steve conceded, letting Tony off the hook.

ooOOoo

It was now night and they had spent their time doing separate things in each other's company. Tony was able to read his book in peace and Steve sketched Tony as he read. They were now in bed, getting ready to sleep for the next week of work.

"Steve, are you still awake?" Tony asked, barely above a whisper.

"Mm hmm." Steve replied just as silently. Tony's small head lay on his left breast, his mangled arm wrapped loosely on the brunette's side. For many nights now this had been how they slept, eventually they either separated or found another configuration of sleeping positions, and that's how they woke in the morning.

"Tell me about your parents." Tony asked, noticing that today's discovery had left him with a burning curiosity. There was obviously something wrong with those paintings, not wrong as in that they were physically unattractive, they had all been beautiful, but wrong. As if the creator had had something deeply disturbing to convey on the canvas. Tony remembered Mrs. Rogers's striking blue eyes, that had looked at him so deeply, he wondered if that was how she had been in real life.

"What is there to know? My father is a General in the Army and is currently fighting overseas to win the Great War." Steve said, finding it an odd question to ask in the middle of the night.

"And your mother?" Tony asked. Maybe it was because he was laying on the man, but he felt the blonde tense slightly, was this always the case or had he never noticed it?

"She was a painter, like I said, she was incredibly talented and died… she died when I was about eight years old." Steve said, his heart pounding a bit faster in his chest.

Tony squeezed Steve tighter, a silent acknowledgment of his pain; he had assumed that Sarah Rogers had died, when Steve spoke of her it was always in the past tense, that and she hadn't been here this entire time.

"Anything else, that couldn't have been just that, she must have made many friends with other artists." Tony pushed, he wanted to crack the reason why only her bright and shining paintings hung around the house, and her darker ones were covered under a tarp in the attic.

"She had, she did. But they disappeared as well when she passed, her death had not sat well with them, and though they sent their condolences they thought that maybe space would be better for my father and me." Steve admitted.

"Did it?" Tony asked, curious.

"Well, they never showed again…" Steve trailed off. There was something major he wasn't telling Tony, but he didn't want to bring it up, he didn't want Tony to think differently of his mother if he said it. Sarah had been a beautiful but troubled woman, he didn't think Tony would understand, Steve barely had when she… when she died.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Tony said.

"No, it's fine now, it's been years. I miss her the most on the day of her death, though." Steve admitted, trying very hard to keep his tears from falling.

"Understandably." Tony whispered against the rib-cage of his companion. He looked up to those blue eyes, in the dark shadows of the night Steve's eyes looked just like his mother's: piercing.

Tony placed a small kiss on Steve's lips, just to let him know he was there. Throughout their short lives they'd each gone through some tremendous shit, but they were still here. As long as they could move forward and remember the faces of the ones they had lost, in a good light, then they would be okay.

"I love you." Tony admitted, finding the courage suddenly to say something he had been feeling for months now.

"I love you too." Steve replied, a complex smile touching his face.

Tony lay back down on Steve's chest, the blonde's calming heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

* * *

Steve waited until the brunette was completely asleep to shimmy out of his embrace. He shoved his feet into his house slippers and made his way silently downstairs and into the backyard. He walked for a couple of yards until he found the disheveled, overgrown garden. It had a certain beauty to it, a beauty that one found only in chaos. The original owner had passed and Steve had been too young to take care of it, his father didn't want to go near it…

"You loved this garden mom, sorry there was nothing else I could do for you." Steve said, kneeling next to the slab of rock that displayed his mother's name, her date of birth, and her death. Tony had reminded him, painfully, of his mother's grave. He had ignored it because of everything that had happened, he would try to make an effort to visit it more often.

"You would enjoy him, he's incredibly handsome, and charming. Even if he can be hard-headed sometimes." Steve said, touching the soft grass that had grown over her.

"I miss you." Steve said, he looked up overhead and through the trees he could see the bright moon, it was only at first quarter, a couple more days until it was full.

"I'll clean this place up, I promise. It is the least I can do." Steve said standing up again and looking at the place. Maybe he could employ the help of Tony, maybe.

"Goodbye, I love you." Steve said, making his way back to the main house. He washed his hands and thought about the painting in the attic. It had been a while since he had seen it. On her twenty-fifth birthday his father had ordered a painter to capture her essence, give her a break from doing all the work. Steve was three years old at the time.

He made his way into the attic, the slight light from the moon reflecting off the white sheets and making them look like large lumps of ghosts.

He made his way to the back, noticing that the painting had already been uncovered. He panicked for a second, wondering who could have disturbed his mother's peace…

He didn't have to think hard. He sighed, suddenly very angry at the brunette, so _that_ is why he looked so guilty today! And also the sudden interest with his parents. Steve pulled a stool from one of the corners and stood up on it, covering his mother once again with the tarp.

Was that the only thing Tony had disturbed? Steve looked over at the other covered paintings stacked against the wall. He knew how incredibly ghastly they had been to his father; he could only imagine what Tony would think if he had seen them. They didn't look disturbed, but he couldn't be sure of that fact.

Steve would have to remind Tony tomorrow not to go back to the attic. He didn't want to take the chance of the brunette uncovering the other paintings that were buried beneath the many piles of books and other things.

Before he left he noticed another object that had been left uncovered. The Reginaphone, it had been his lullaby machine when he was younger, it used to help him sleep and made his mom relax in her worst moments.

It had stopped working ages ago…Steve wondered if that's what Tony meant when he said something had been fixed.

He cranked up the handle and flipped the switch, surprised and delighted to find that the contraption worked again. He waited until the song finished to bring it downstairs (with some difficulty). He would confront the brunette about the snooping tomorrow, but he couldn't be too harsh on him, the man had fixed one of the most precious objects from his childhood.

He also couldn't fault Tony for being naturally curious, it wasn't as if he had told him to stay away from any place in the house.

Steve returned to the bedroom where Tony still lay in his calm slumber. Steve lowered himself as gently as he could unto the bed and placed a small kiss on the top of the brunette's hair.

Maybe one of these days he would have the courage to tell him about his mother, maybe then… no, he doesn't think he could ever tell anyone about it. If five therapists couldn't get him to talk, he didn't think Tony could bring it out of him either. Only his father knew the truth, and his father had decided to ignore it for the rest of their lives.

It was better this way, if he just let his mother's memory rest.

Let the sleeping dogs lie.

* * *

 **Is it just me, or is Stevey-boy being slightly cryptic about his mother's death? ;)**


	12. Spring, Sprang, Sprung

Ch. 12: Spring, Sprang, Sprung

 **I'm so, so sorry that this chapter came late, but it's extra-long so I hope that makes up for it.**

* * *

Tony woke up the next morning to the melodic tinkles of the Reginaphone; it made him smile for a bit, but then it registered in his mind why that sudden situation was out of place.

He rose slowly, quite afraid to face Steve; he now knew that the _man_ knew that he'd been upstairs. Well, on the bright-side, he was still here (meaning that Steve hadn't found it within himself to kick him out, yet).

He fixed the bedsheets and prepared himself for work. Taking a deep breath, he faced the door and opened it. He had to apologize immediately, not only for trespassing, but also for lying about it. If they were going to build a relationship, it couldn't be built on a foundation of lies.

He walked, slower than usual, towards the direction of the sound. Tony found Steve waltzing by himself as the machine turned the disk around. It was a shame that the songs couldn't be longer than a minute or so. It really broke the atmosphere when you constantly had to readjust, crank, and press play.

Steve caught his eye, momentarily shocked to the find the brunette standing there. He walked over to the Reginaphone and restarted the music.

"Steve I'm-

"Shh." Steve said, not letting Tony formulate his apology. He took the smaller man into his embrace and commenced a slow waltz. "I take it you were upstairs yesterday?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I'm-

"And you fixed the machine right?" Steve interrupted again, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but-

"That's all I wanted to know."

"But Steve-

"That's _all_ I wanted to know. Everything else I forgive you for it." Steve said sincerely. They stopped their waltz as the music stopped. Tony wanted to apologize, but it was futile. The man had already walked back and changed the disk.

"I made breakfast if you're interested." Steve said. They still had about thirty minutes before it was time for them to leave for work and make it there on time. Tony sighed and made his way to the kitchen, where freshly made scrambled eggs and some toasted bread sat with a fresh batch of orange juice—freshly squeezed.

He took his time to savor the flavor, content that they had at least one cook in the house. Tony looked to his right where some parchment and a pencil lay on the countertop. He decided to ignore it this time, his curiosity won't get the best of him—enough trouble it had caused already.

ooOOoo

"Steve, were you writing a letter to someone?" Tony asked during their lunch-break. Today had been the same as usual, nothing seemed to change in their day to day work environment. Clint was in his own little world talking to a new hire, Blake or Bruce was his name, Tony couldn't be bothered to remember.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, biting into his sandwich.

"I saw some parchment on the counter today, I usually never see you communicate with anyone outside of Clint and me and so I was wondering if you had spoken to anyone else recently." Tony clarified.

"Oh, right, I was just replying to a letter from my father. He likes to keep me informed about anything he can and I like to write back to let him know everything is okay." Steve said, nodding his head as he remembered the letter he had picked up yesterday.

"Have you told him about us?" Tony asked, all of a sudden. He had tried to keep it below a whisper so as not to attract any unwanted attention.

"What do you think Tony?" Steve asked rhetorically, his sad smile the only answer Tony needed, but the brunette still wanted to know more. What was to become of him when Mr. Rogers returned?

"I see." Tony said, nodding his head in acquiescence to his approaching fate. He knew he couldn't have been with Steve forever; it was his house after all—Tony was just overstaying his welcome.

"Tony, talk to me, why did you shut off like that?" Steve asked, noticing immediately the sudden shift in mood from the brunette.

"I can't expect Mr. Rogers to be happy about me staying in his home." Tony admitted, no longer hungry for the rest of his food.

"It's not his house." Steve said, almost angry with the revelation.

"What do you mean? I thought your great-grandfather, or something like that, built it." Tony said, now confused.

"Yes, but it was from my mother's side. That house belongs to me, not my father." _Kind of._ It was his under the condition that he marry, he didn't think his family would find it in them to be too accepting if he chose to take Tony's hand in marriage.

"Regardless of who's it is, I'm sure he wouldn't take it lightly." Tony said, sighing into his thermos.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. He won't be back for a couple of months after the war, he told me so himself, so we can just _relax and_ -

"So are we winning then?" Clint asked, interrupting the tense conversation, he had tried not to eavesdrop (with his condition, that task was quite simple) but he had strained his ears regardless, trying to catch little snippets of the conversation.

"According to my father, yes. It seems like we are taking the upper hand." Steve said, turning his head to Clint and answering his question.

"That's great, that's really freaking great." Clint said, nodding his head in pride.

Tony rose from the table without preamble, taking his lunch bag with him and leaving without a word.

Steve sighed and picked up his own materials following the other man.

Tony led him to the locker room where they could be mostly alone, he wanted to talk in peace, not have seeing eyes and hearing ears all around them. He shoved the food into his locker, uncaring whether it spoiled or not when he got back to it.

Steve stood directly beside him when he turned around. "Steve, I just want to know what my options are here. I can go back to living with Clint, I'm still paying rent after all, but I don't want to. The weeks that you and I have been together have been the most fulfilling and I don't think I could take letting go of that. What kills me is that you're the only other person who knows this. No one cares if we're broken up, people would rather have us killed than see us together." Tony said, his face creasing with worry. His brown eyes were shiny, as if he were getting ready to cry. He wouldn't though, not while he was at work, not in front of Steve.

"Tony." Steve said, it was all he could say. What else could he possibly do to comfort the man?

He looked around, pulling Tony suddenly into a kiss, he let his hands cup the side of his face, hoping that the caress showed how much he hated their upcoming predicament.

"I wish it were different too. I wish I didn't have to sneak around with you, that I could hold your hand, or place kiss on your cheek whenever I wanted, but I can't, _we_ can't, and it kills me too. I don't know what we're going to do when my father returns, but I'll try to explain it to him to the best of my abilities." Steve promised, placing another kiss on Tony's lips.

"We have to go; people will start wondering where we went." Tony said, a couple of minutes later.

"I doubt people care enough about us." Steve said, dipping his head low to kiss the brunette again, that man's lips were so addicting, he couldn't get enough of them. (He also couldn't wait until the day Tony was ready to give him more, but he'd wait, even if it took forever.)

"People talk Steve; can't we wait until we get home?" Tony asked, pleading with the man to think sensibly. It wasn't as if he didn't want it too, he was practically bursting at the seams with pent up lust, but they couldn't be doing this, not in a place so public.

"One last kiss, to tide me over and I promise I won't bother you again." Steve said, holding up his index finger and rounding out his eyes in such a way that made him look like a giant puppy. Tony found that impossible to say no to, even if he knew better. The way Steve kissed him then, had him gasping by the end. The blonde smirked and walked away, leaving Tony with a little problem. He'd ignore it for now, there was no more time to take care of it.

* * *

The rest of Tony's shift was an incredible hassle; Fury had introduced them to about ten more employees, all of them requiring assistance. Clint took the new guy he had been talking to at lunch (Tony still didn't really know his name) and Tony was assigned to Heinrich Zemo, a name that turned many heads (some, not so kind) towards the man's direction.

Tony raised a suspicious eyebrow at the name, but let it slide, for now; if Fury hired him it must have been for a reason.

"Hello, I'm Tony. I hope you're ready to learn because I'm only showing you this once." Tony said looking at the brunette up and down. He had sort of a dead look in his eyes, as if he were still half-asleep.

"Okay." Tony said turning back to his station and motioning for the other man to do the same. "Grab a pair of gloves and follow what I'm doing. You're in parts, which means that you're going to prep each box with the appropriate materials for assembly." Tony continued, motioning to the large lists directly in front and behind them. Tony filled each box carefully, making sure that Mr. Zemo could absorb what he was doing.

"They have to go in a certain way or else assembly gets delayed." Tony pointed out, doing another box for good measure, as his silent companion looked on. Never once speaking; it made Tony wonder if the man could speak at all.

"Do you understand; I'm going to need some form of confirmation Mr. Zemo." Tony said, getting a bit irritated with the man for not responding to anything he had said. When he'd trained Steve, the man hadn't shut up for two seconds, here he kind of wished for that sort of chatter. The silence, now, was just creepy. Zemo looked at him, his eyes narrowing a bit as he nodded. Tony felt his heart stop and start again when Zemo looked at him like that, it was as if he'd looked into his soul. Jesus, he needed to go on break.

They worked in silence, the entire time Zemo packed his boxes almost as perfectly as Tony did, it was as if he were a natural at this.

"Where are you from?" Tony asked, trying to break the ice with the man. Training normally lasted about four hours in his department and he wasn't about to spend it all in silence.

"Germany." Zemo said, finally replying to something Tony had asked. His accent was thick, even from that one word Tony could figure that much out.

"What brings you to the United States then?" Tony asked, moving the conversation right along.

"My family and I want… were trying to escape the war." Zemo said, struggling slightly with his English. Maybe that's why he had refused to talk to Tony in the first place.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Tony said, keeping his mouth shut after that.

"It is not your fault." Zemo replied a couple of minutes later, Tony had almost forgotten what they had been talking about when the man spoke up again.

"Well, you're doing a great job for your first day. Keep it up and Fury might move you to assembly." Tony said, flashing a bright smile to cheer the man up. It was obvious he was sort of a downer. Tony wasn't a particularly cheerful-butterfly either, but he would smile from time to time, especially when he was engaged in silly banter with Clint, or anytime Steve opened his mouth.

Zemo smiled back, but smile is too strong of a word to use in this context, it was more like a pained expression of someone who didn't smile very often. Well, he really couldn't blame him, the man was from the country they were currently at war with, anyone who looked twice at him and heard his name was bound to misjudge him. He wondered how long he had been here for, it couldn't have been that long. Tony didn't want to ask and seem rude, enough he had dipped into his personal life already.

"In a couple of minutes I'll show you around the factory, just let me finish these two boxes." Tony said, heaving one of the boxes which turned out to be a lot heavier than he expected and having it almost fall out of his hands had it not been for Zemo's quick reflexes perfect timing.

"Be careful Mr. Stark." Zemo said, his eyes bugging out of his head.

"Thank you, a-and Tony will do just fine." Tony replied, putting the box back on the belt. "I think now is a good a time as any to take a break." Tony said removing his gloves and waving them at Clint to try and catch his attention.

"What?" The dirty-blonde asked looking up from his work.

"Take over, won't you, I'm gonna show Zemo around the factory." Tony said, pointing at the other man.

Clint looked them both over, raising an eyebrow. "Is that really necessary, you lazy piece of shit?" Clint asked the smile on his face letting Tony know he was joking. Tony just rolled his and motioned to Zemo to follow him.

"Um, Tony, he just insulted you." Zemo said, looking back and forth between Clint and Tony as they walked away from parts and made their way to assembly.

"Oh that, it was just some witty banter, don't go saying that to just anyone out here though; you'll get your teeth punched in." Tony cautioned.

Zemo nodded, keeping a hairsbreadth away from Tony's space. The brunette found it a bit intrusive, but he wasn't about to say something about it and make it awkward.

Tony made sure to stop at assembly first to surprise a certain someone, very rarely did they intermingle during work hours and Zemo's appearance was his perfect excuse to do just that.

"How's it going?" Tony asked, suddenly, pushing Steve a little out of the way so he could see the way he handled assembly. He wished for the millionth time that he could lift the heavy machinery required to assemble these cars, he loved working with his hands and parts didn't do him enough justice.

Steve instantly lit up, he had been momentarily startled when Tony had spoken to him, but once he got over the shock he was incredibly elated. "What are you doing here?" Steve asked, pausing his work to pay full attention to Tony.

"Don't stop working! I'm just showing the new recruit around the company and I thought I would stop by." Tony said, bringing Zemo into Steve's line of vision.

"Oh, hello." Steve said, "I would shake your hand right now, but mine are incredibly greasy."

"No problem, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Zemo said, nodding his head curtly.

"This is assembly, parts go down that line from the very top over there—Tony pointed with his finger as he spoke—and they end up down there where the Cars are released. Each particular section has a specific part that they implement until it is all done at the end there." Tony explained. He looked at Steve one last time as they walked away, smiling softly in his direction.

This didn't escape Zemo's watchful stare, but he decided to ignore it for now. No good would it do him to assume things, no good had it done him before…

"Here's pretty much the finished model." Tony said, pointing to the car at the end of the belt.

"Efficient." Zemo replied, nodding his head in approval.

"You can thank Henry Ford for that, come on, let me show you the rest of the factory."

ooOOoo

"…And this is the locker room, through there are the showers and Fury should have given you a paper with your locker assignment, you'll be sharing with someone so do try to compartmentalize." Tony reminded.

"Thank you, Tony, for showing me around." Zemo said, his gaze intense as his brown eyes pierced Tony's own. The brunette looked away then, they were too much for him to handle this late in the night.

"Don't mention it, really, it's my job." Tony said, clapping his hands together and motioning for the man to walk back to work with him.

The rest of the shift was a quiet one as Tony methodically packed boxes and Zemo followed closely behind him, Clint had gone to do the tour with the other recruit. Tony watched the clock, the last minutes of his shift ticking by, once the end of his shift approached, he packed the last box of the night and signaled for Zemo to do the same.

"Well, you did an excellent job for your first day, I hope you keep it up." Tony said, leading them towards the locker room.

Zemo tried to hide the sudden blush that overtook his features, but it didn't quite escape Tony's curious gaze.

"You have been very kind, especially to someone like myself." Zemo admitted.

"Well, until you prove me otherwise, I'm going to assume that you're not hell-bent on the destruction of America." Tony replied, a hint of seriousness coating his otherwise playful statement.

"I will try not to disappoint then." Zemo said a bright ( _true_ ) smile erupting on his face.

Steve was already in the locker room and watched as Tony and the new guy smiled at each other, a sudden foreign emotion overtook him then as he stared on. It made his face hot and his nostrils flare. He had to take a step back and acknowledge the sudden anger that overshadowed his thoughts. He's never felt like this before, what the hell?

Zemo walked over to his locker observing silently as the other two men talked, they seemed to be taking their time putting on their coats and simply talking to each other. Zemo wanted so much to hear what they were saying, but he was halfway across the locker room. Something the blonde had said amused Tony though, as the brunette let out a small chuckle and a big smile, much bigger than any he had given him.

Zemo shook his head, turning back to his locker and his task at hand.

* * *

"So… the new guy…" Steve trailed off as they rode home. He wanted to explore that feeling he had had in the locker room, but he wasn't quite sure how to approach it.

"Zemo, Heinrich Zemo." Tony filled in.

"What a name." Steve said with a hint of spite, having not been there when Fury had presented the new recruits.

"Hey, watch the hostility. He's not with _them_." Tony cautioned as he noticed how tense the blonde suddenly became.

"How can you possibly know that?" Steve asked, turning for a second to look skeptically at the brunette.

"Because, he told me so himself, he escaped Germany with his family to avoid the war." Tony explained, knowing that it was not his place to reveal that information, but not finding any harm in doing so.

"Hmf." Steve harrumphed, not believing the story fully, but having no other choice. "You were getting pretty friendly with him today. What, did he not piss you off as much as I had?" Steve asked, letting some of his earlier emotion flare up.

"What? I was only trying to encourage him, besides, it's definitely not the same as you… I wanted to kiss _you_." Tony admitted, murmuring the last part. But Steve heard it regardless, it made his mouth burst into a face-splitting grin.

"Really, that soon after meeting me?" Steve said.

"Shut up." Tony said, his cheeks brightening.

"No, I want to know. Was I really that charming?" Steve asked.

"Shut up." Tony replied again burying his face in his hands. Why had he said that?

"I want to know." Steve said, stopping the car once they made it home.

"Yes, okay, I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you. I have no idea what that says about me, or you, but that was my thought process and I hated you for it." Tony replied, talking into his hands out of some form of shame or embarrassment.

"Do you still hate me now?" Steve asked only half serious.

Tony looked at him with a raised brow and a look in his eyes that asked him if he was kidding. "What do you think?" Tony asked.

"Just making sure, you never know with these things." Steve said as he smiled. They stepped out of the vehicle and ambled towards the house.

ooOOoo

"So what are we going to do?" Tony whispered to Steve as they lay in their customary position.

"You mean about my father?" Steve asked, though he knew damn well that was what was bugging his beloved.

"Yes, about Father Rogers." Tony agreed.

"I don't know, Tony, I really don't know. What I do know is, I don't want this to end, even if…" Steve said shaking his head and squeezing Tony tighter.

"Even if what Steve, don't leave me hanging now." Tony urged, he didn't want it to end either, but he wasn't about to keep it a secret forever.

"Even if we have to run away." Steve said. Tony chuckled lightly until he heard silence from above. "Jesus Christ, you're serious." Tony said once he realized Steve didn't find it half as amusing as he did.

"Yes, I actually am."

"Where the hell would we go, I have no money, I have no family; I'm a nobody compared to you." Tony said, trying to get Steve to understand his own faulty logic.

"That doesn't matter if we have each other." Steve stated innocently.

"Steve, darling, how naïve can you get? Love is only half the battle, the other half would be money, food, shelter, water… we'd end up hating each other by the end of it." Tony said, "Life isn't a fairytale."

"I think we could make it work." Steve said, a little less confident now than he was before.

"Do you even know what _work_ is? Steve, I know you've been in the army, and that takes rigorous training, but it doesn't hold a feather to breaking your back every day for a measly two cents." Tony reminded. "We come from different worlds, when is the last time you had to go without food because your parents couldn't afford it that day?" Tony asked him.

"Never." Steve whispered, losing his entire argument.

"Exactly, I love you Steve, I really do—but it takes more than love to build a house." Tony said.

"Okay, I'm sorry I suggested it." Steve said, feeling like a scolded child.

Tony sighed and sat up to get a better look at the pouting blonde. "Come here." He said, bringing Steve's face close to his and placing a kiss on his forehead then his lips. "We'll figure it out, okay, but save the 'running away' for a rainy day." Tony said, making Steve smile (which was his only intention at the moment).

They resumed their position on the bed, today he had wanted to talk to Steve about his mother's paintings upstairs, or just his mother in general, but they hadn't gotten the chance. Maybe he'd ask on their next day off.

* * *

"German pig!" One of the worker's shouted. As Tony approached the locker room that morning he was greeted with the sound of fist hitting flesh and Zemo being pinned to the floor as he was beaten, almost to death, by an overbearing brute.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Tony shouted, trying to break the large crowd that had formed, Steve following closely behind.

"This _heini,_ tried to get into my fucking locker! What the fuck were you doing in there?" _Punch_. Zemo tried his best to block the biggest of the punches, but he couldn't deflect them all.

"Hey, hey! Get off him, you dumbass! That's his locker too." Tony shouted, looking at Steve for some help since the blonde was in the same weight class as the bulking Neanderthal.

"What are you now? A defender, piece of shit. Fuck you both." The brute said, spitting in Zemo's face as he got off him. "Get out of my way." He said, moving through the crowd like a large bull.

"Jesus Christ." Tony sighed, as he leaned down low to help Zemo get up and out of the locker room and into the small make-shift infirmary that they had in the back. Steve followed promptly, getting Tony a warm bowl of water and some gauze so he could aid the bleeding man.

" _Scheisse_." Zemo cursed as Tony placed the warm cloth over Zemo's eye where the worst of the damage had been taken.

"Steve, go tell Fury what happened. I'm gonna stay here and try to patch him up." Tony instructed the blonde.

"Got it, don't go anywhere." Steve said leaving the room.

"What the hell happened, Zemo?" Tony asked, though he could probably guess by the derogatory slur and outrageous response.

"I was trying to open my locker and just, _bumf_ , came out of nowhere and started screaming in my face. I tried to explain to him that it was my locker, but as soon as he heard my accent he exploded and you caught the rest of it yourself." Zemo said, flinching as Tony rubbed the area again trying to wipe off most of the blood, the eye was pretty much shut now, and the side of his face was purple and red as well.

"God-damnit." Tony cursed, shaking his head, how could people be so intolerant? "Any place else hurt?" He asked the brunette.

"He banged my head pretty hard against the floor and I think he bruised my arms when I was trying to block him." Zemo said, rubbing the blooming bruise in the back of his head.

"Here, let me see." Tony said, moving behind the other man and feeling around for the bruise, when Zemo hissed he knew he'd found it. "I'm sorry about this, I think if you ask we could maybe get your locker changed." Tony said, rubbing small circles around the bruise.

"Could I move in with you?" Zemo asked tentatively as the other brunette massaged his head.

"I don't know; I guess we'll see what Fury says." Tony said. In actuality, he wasn't too keen in sharing a locker with the man; he currently didn't have a locker buddy, but he didn't know Zemo well enough to grant him that trust.

"Thank you, Tony, for showing such kindness. I know people are weary of me because of my accent and my name, but I really was just trying to escape the war." Zemo said. Tony stilled his hands for a second and looked at the back of the man's head, assessing that statement.

"Don't mention it, I know how you feel… Trust me. But we can't help how or where we're born, now can we? If only certain people would get that through their thick skull." Tony said, revealing another piece of himself to the other man, if he cared to listen that is. Zemo nodded in acquiescence, relating to that statement in more ways than one.

"I normally don't like it when people show sympathy for me, but with you, I don't mind it so much." Zemo admitted, his cheeks and the back of his neck turning bright-pink. Tony was too focused on the bruise around the man's skull that he either didn't see or didn't care much for the pigment shift.

"I'm not showing you sympathy because I feel sorry for you, I just can't stand bigots." Tony clarified, after thinking it over.

"Whatever the reason, I appreciate it." Zemo replied. Before he could continue, someone knocked on the door, forcing Tony to move from behind Zemo and open it. It was a disgruntled Steve followed by a fuming Fury.

"Jesus Fucking Christ." Fury cursed when he saw the state Zemo was in. "Who did this?" Fury asked rubbing an annoyed hand down his face.

"I think his name was Jerry, or Jeffrey." Zemo replied, holding the side of his face which was in most pain.

"Big brute, light-brown hair, greenish eyes. Ugly as all hell." Tony said, filling in the physical aspects of the man.

"That's Jeffrey alright, Mr. Zemo, did you do anything to aggravate this assault?" Fury asked, turning his attention to the man on the bed.

"Other than being German, no." Zemo replied.

"Humf." Fury harrumphed, putting his hands to his waist and tapping his foot impatiently trying to think of what to do with this situation.

"Are you going to fire him?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't particularly care for the Zemo guy, but Tony obviously found something in him worth caring for, and though it made him extremely hot inside (he still hadn't isolated that emotion) if Tony thought it best, then he did too.

"He just got out of the army." Fury said, looking at the ceiling as if it held all the answers.

"So, let them take care of it." Tony said, suddenly outraged by the excuse.

"He was _dishonorably_ discharged, no one's gonna hire him like that." Fury said.

"What was he kicked out for?" Steve asked skeptically.

"Fighting." Fury said reluctantly.

"Figures, why did _you_ hire him?" Steve asked. He was now looking back and forth between Zemo, Tony, and Fury.

"I don't have to give you an answer, Rogers." Fury said, suddenly getting angry at the blonde. Who did he think he was?

"No, but that gentleman over there deserves some form of reparation for getting assaulted, you're the one who hired him. He's only been here for two days, god-damnit." Steve said, urging Fury to look at the situation clearly.

"Mr. Zemo, what if I increase your pay and move you to assembly." Fury said, turning to Zemo.

The man on the bed looked up then, he looked between Tony and Fury (ignoring Steve).

"I'd take it." Tony said, looking between the three of them as well. "Steve, you can train him right?" Tony asked, raising both of his eyebrows at the blonde.

"Yeah, that'd be no problem." The blonde said.

"I'll take it, on the condition that you move my locker." Zemo said, "With Tony's." He continued.

"Deal."/ "What?" Fury and Steve said in unison. Fury turned to look at the blonde and raised an eyebrow while Steve turned to look at both brunettes, one with a slight smirk on his bleeding lips and the other with an apologetic look on his face. That burning hot passion that had taken him suddenly yesterday returned in full force, and it took all it had within him not to finish what Jeffrey had started.

"Then it's settled, now could you all please return to your stations." Fury pleaded, he was just glad Zemo hadn't tried to extort him out of everything he owned.

"Yes sir." They all replied with various levels of emotion.

"Okay Zemo, I'll follow you and Steve to the assembly line and observe the both of you. If you need anything, you know where to find me." Tony said.

Zemo nodded, finding it a little difficult getting up from the bed as his bruised ribcage gave him trouble.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, suddenly grabbing the brunette by the arm to try and help him stand.

"I think he may have bruised my ribs when he pinned me to the ground." Zemo hissed as he moved his arms around.

"Oh Christ, take your shirt off, let me see." Tony said, motioning for Zemo to sit back down.

"What, are you a medic all of a sudden?" Steve snapped. Making both brunettes look at him. Tony noticed immediately just how _red_ Steve's face had become, a clear sign that he was incredibly angry... but for what?

"I'm just trying to help." Tony said, narrowing his eyes, Steve rolled his, looking at anywhere but the two of them, and nervously pacing the small width of the room.

Tony ignored the sudden outburst, more interested in finding out the root cause of Zemo's sudden pain. Yep, there it was, in a bright-big purple blotch on the left side of his ribcage lay a bruise.

Tony touched it delicately, his cold hands providing some form of comfort for the aching man. "Jesus Christ." Tony said, uttering that name more in the span of an hour than he had his entire life. "He did a number on you didn't he, and everyone just stood and stared, some of them egging him on." Tony said more to himself than anything.

"I suppose so." Zemo said, looking intensely at Tony.

"I guess there's nothing you can do now but take it easy and sleep it off." Tony advised as Zemo put his shirt back on.

"I will try my best." Zemo said, trying his hardest not to wince as he gave Tony a small smile.

Steve caught the latter end of that, finally reaching his boiling point and exiting the room. Tony looked to the door and then back at Zemo. "Stay here for a second, I'm gonna go see what his problem is." Tony said, following Steve's hot trail.

The blonde was pacing even quicker outside.

"What the hell is your problem?" Tony asked the steaming blonde.

Steve didn't respond, he simply pushed Tony into the nearest wall and kissed him, roughly, for once not caring if anyone were to see. Actually let them! Especially that Zemo guy, let him see just who Tony belonged to-

Woah, woah, were had _that_ come from? Steve did basically everything but call Tony 'mine' at that moment. Like a petulant child with a toy.

Tony hadn't been expecting such outward expression from the blonde, suddenly very intrigued with this sudden passion that had erupted from seemingly nowhere.

"Sorry," Steve apologized as he broke the kiss and held his head in shame, his blonde hair touching the tip of Tony's nose, almost making him sneeze, "I don't know what's coming over me, I just had to kiss you." Steve admitted.

Tony smiled, placing a small kiss on the exposed part of Steve's head. "You should be a little more careful next time, _where_ exactly you stop to kiss me." Tony whispered, conspiratorially.

Steve smiled, letting his fears ebb and flow out of his system and into the ground bellow, no use clinging onto them when Tony didn't find anything wrong. Or at least that's what he kept trying to tell himself as he noticed how quickly Zemo and Tony acclimated towards each other.

ooOOoo

"May I sit here?" The familiar accent asked as Tony, Steve, Clint, and Bruce (Tony finally bothered to remember his name) sat down to eat lunch.

"Yes, you're more than welcome to." Tony said, to the displeasure of the blonde and the curiosity of the other two.

"Thank you." Zemo said, sitting down into the bench with some difficulty. There was an odd silence that overcame the four as they each ate their food.

"Your food looks delicious, who cooked it?" Tony asked Bruce, to try and break up the silence.

"Ah, I did." Bruce replied looking down at his meal, it wasn't anything special just some rice and beans with some lettuce garnish.

"Cool." Tony said looking down at his bland sandwich and wishing for the millionth time that he could afford better meals. (Sure, he could simply _ask_ Steve, but he didn't want to give off the impression that he was a freeloader.)

The silence resumed, but this time was cut short by the sound of the evening bell which signaled the end of lunch. They all walked towards their respective places, putting their items away where they needed to go.

* * *

"Tony." Zemo almost shouted as he ran into the locker room, Tony was halfway through putting his jacket on when the brunette burst in. "Oh thank goodness, you're still here." Holding his side as the sudden pain hit him, why had he run so hard?

"Hey, don't hurt yourself, what is it?" Tony asked, closing his locker.

"I hate to ask, since you've done so many nice things for me already, but there is no way I can walk all the way home in my condition. Not by myself anyways, my sister is too young and mother is not fit enough to walk the entire way. I was wondering if maybe-

"We can take you home, right Steve?" Tony said, turning to look at the blonde who narrowed his eyes at Zemo. He kept quiet for such a long time that Tony had to prompt him again for a response. "Right… Steve."

"Yes, we can take you home. But just on this one occurrence, you should feel better by tomorrow." Steve said curtly, walking past the both of them and to the outside.

"Thank you, I will repay you one if these days, I swear it." Zemo said, his face erupting into a smile.

"Don't even mention it, I'm not quite sure what Steve's deal is today, but he's normally not that hostile." Tony said, apologizing for his beloved's behavior.

"Maybe he just doesn't like Germans." Zemo suggested, opening his shared locker with Tony and taking out his coat. (They'd switched the items earlier, at a time where the brute Jeffrey couldn't cause another scene.)

"That can't be it, not with you anyways." Tony said, mulling it over. Steve seemed angry with the fact that Zemo was around Tony, not necessarily that he was of any other nationality.

"Well, I just hope I can get on his good graces before the week is through." Zemo said, approaching the other male.

"Let's hope indeed." Tony said.

The ride to Zemo's house was a quiet one, no one really had anything to say as Steve maneuvered the night, luckily it was on the way and he really didn't have to go out of their normal direction to get there.

"Here we are, just up there." Zemo instructed as Steve parked the car on the street corner, he didn't kill the engine, he just waited for the brunette to get out. "Thank you very much, Mr. Rogers, goodnight Tony." Zemo said, personalizing his affection to Tony alone.

"Nigh Zemo, I hope you feel better by tomorrow." Tony said to the male as he exited the car.

Steve didn't wait to see if Zemo made it in okay, honestly, he couldn't give two shits; he really just wanted to get Tony and himself home, where he could analyze these emotions in peace.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Tony said, as they drove away from the other man.

"What makes you say that?" Steve said, just going through the motions of the conversation.

"You're normally an incredibly bright bubble of kindness, now, with Zemo at least, it's as if the mere sight of him send bugs crawling up and down your skin." Tony observed.

"Your point?" Steve said.

"My point, Steve darling, is that I just can't pinpoint your anger. It can't possibly be that you agree with how cruelly he's being treated by his fellow employees." Tony said.

"It's not, I don't care that he's German, or Prussian, or whatever other nationality he could possibly be. I fought against the Germans, sure, but even I know where to draw the line." Steve said, calming down a bit. The last thing he was, was a racist.

"Then what is it?" Tony asked, curious now.

"You've seemed to warmed up to him in the short amount of time you've known him." Steve said, flipping the script and turning the tables on Tony.

"Excuse me?" Tony asked, almost offended.

"In only two days he's managed to make himself your best-friend, how am I supposed to take that lightly?" Steve asked, some of his steam returning.

"Are you saying I can't make friends?" Tony asked. They had finally made it back to Steve's home, thought he hadn't realized it with the onset of an argument going on. They continued the conversation into the living room and up the stairs until they were finally in the bedroom and could look at each other in peace.

"What? That's not what I said at all. I'm just saying that it took you way longer to befriend me." Steve said, some of his insecurities bubbling towards the surface of his bravado.

"What the hell does that mean? Steve, you know our situation is much different than that! I thought we settled this last night." Then it clicked, almost violently, in his head why Steve was acting so outrageously angry towards Zemo, and that kiss… "Wait a minute Steve, are you _jealous_?" Tony asked.

Steve shut up then, confused for a second because he hadn't quite understood the question, a couple of seconds later his cheeks darkened to beet red color and he couldn't face Tony directly. "No." Steve refused immediately, but all the signs point to a lie. He was jealous, like a toddler who's lost the attention of his parents to a baby.

"Oh my god, you _are_!" Tony said, a smug smile eating away at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not, I'm just simply-

Tony didn't let Steve finish his excuse as he practically tackled him in a kiss and embrace combination that had them both tumbling clumsily towards the bed.

"You are and you can't deny it." Tony practically growled in Steve's ear, making the younger man shiver.

Tony found himself straddling the blonde, dipping his head even lower to get a better advantage into Steve's mouth.

"So maybe I am a little jealous." Steve admitted as his mind clouded over with lust and passion and his thoughts slowed to a sluggish drag as his tongue found its way into Tony's mouth.

Tony chuckled contently, finally able to break down Steve's resolve so the blonde could tell him the truth.

"Can you blame me? I hate that you're paying more attention to him than you have to me all week." Steve said, pouting his lips when they separated for air.

"Is that so, Steve, the week barely started." Tony reminded.

"Still, I can't stand it." Steve replied, bringing the brunette's mouth closer to his and resuming the kiss.

It didn't take long before the blonde found his footing and he flipped them over, hovering slightly over Tony. Here he had the upper hand, and was able to caress Tony's face while simultaneously placing another hand delicately over the brunette's hip and up his side.

In the meantime, Tony's heartrate increased as Steve started to use his hands. He was starting to get nervous and a little bit scared. The last thing he wanted right now was Steve on top of him. _You're so pretty, so soft...such beauty in such a small boy-_

"Stop!" Tony choked out it his attempts to get Steve off him. The blonde immediately ceased his actions and rolled over so that he was no longer hovering over Tony.

"Shit… Steve, I'm sorry." Tony said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Why, why did he still have to ruin his life up to this day! It's been seventeen years damn it!

"No, don't ever apologize for something like that, it was not your fault." Steve said seriously. Tony turned to look at him and smiled sadly. He offered his hand and Steve took it, gladly.

"I'm still sorry, I'm leaving you with the mysterious case of anticipation." Tony said; motioning, with his eyes, just what exactly he was talking about.

"Oh don't worry about me, it'll calm down in a bit." Steve said, confidently.

"One day Steve, I promise it won't be like this forever." Tony whispered into the moonlit room.

"I know, but until that day comes, this will always be more than enough." Steve said taking Tony's hand a placing a small kiss on it.

"You're the sweetest person I know; how could you possibly think anybody else could replace you. Jealous…" Tony said, trying to lighten the ruined mood.

"I don't know; I guess that's why they call it an irrational response. I'll try to be nicer to Zemo tomorrow, hmm, but no promises." Steve said.

"That's all I ask." Tony said, contently. And with the exception of their respective showers, that's how they stayed the remainder of the night until Steve woke them up promptly at six.

* * *

 **A/N: All right, Zemo has been introduced. I wonder what fresh hell he will bring with him.**

 **Alright, so a couple of notes, one: the schedule has been consistently to upload on a Thursday, but I can't do that now (I have a job and a lot more responsibilities) so I'm switching it to a Friday.**

 **Two: After chapter fifteen there will be a one-month break, I need to start bulk writing and this will be the perfect opportunity for me, so this is just a heads up.**

 **Thank you so much for sticking around, and I appreciate you all!**


	13. Classical Overture

"Let's pick-up Zemo today." Steve said, as a surprise to Tony, as they ate breakfast in the great hall. (A little excessive, I know, why the hell do they need so much room to eat breakfast?)

"You've changed your tune all of a sudden." Tony observed, actually quite happy with the idea.

"I was thinking hard about it, I was quite the asshole, and you reminded me of that." Steve said, placing one of his hands on top of Tony's, the man looked at them smiling tenderly. "Besides, the guy was beat-up pretty bad. He's bound to be in a lot of pain today as well." Steve continued, justifying his actions.

"Oh, that's the sweetest thing I've heard you say all morning," Tony said, incredibly proud of the blonde.

"Don't mention it… or I might change my mind. I'm not quite keen on the guy yet, but I'll give him another chance." Steve said, picking up their plates, but not before Tony brought him down for a kiss.

* * *

"Son, you do not have to go out there again, we can have Elizaveta go out there instead. She's young and pretty, plenty of men-

"Stop mother." Zemo snapped, hissing as he did so, he was trying very hard not to show how much pain he was in as it took everything in him not to lay back down on the bed and sleep for three more days.

"But Richie, you'll die out there." His mother begged, her big blue eyes begging him to stay by her side. He was still her baby, after all.

"I'm not going to sacrifice my sister simply because I got a couple of bruises." Zemo clarified, looking over to his little sister who couldn't have been more than thirteen at the time. She gave him the strength to get back up and go to work.

"Richie, please." His mom pleaded, one last time.

"If I come back here tonight, and Elizaveta has even a single scratch on her, I will never forgive you." Zemo threatened, making his 5' 2" mother take a couple of steps back, as his intense stare pierced her eyes. He'd worked too hard and sacrificed too many people to see his own mother turn on them on the first sign of bad-blood.

She nodded then, looking down, ashamed to have even considered that an option. Zemo took a deep breath, regretting it then, but trying hard not to flinch. He got dressed that morning, with some difficulty. He would have killed for some hot water since the cold, freezing spray, felt like bullets against his skin. But he persevered, venturing forward into his clothes, which proved to be just as difficult as getting out of bed. He wondered, for the millionth time that morning, how he was even going to make it to work.

He sat down to eat the breakfast that his sister had made them, smiling as best as he could in her direction.

"This is delicious, Eli." Zemo praised, making his sister blush with the compliment.

"I'm sorry they hate you so," Eli said, practicing her English, it was still quite accented and riddled with mistakes, but Zemo was proud that she was taking an effort to learn it.

"No worries, they don't hate me, they hate that I'm German, but what are you going to do, this war has made a bigot out of all of us." Zemo said, replying in English. He went slowly for Elizaveta, knowing full well that she was not ready for fully-fledged conversations.

"But being German is being you." Eli replied, crossing her fingers over the table trying to make sense of the situation.

"I suppose you're right." Zemo said, finishing his breakfast in record time so he could leave the apartment. "Stay safe my little potato." Zemo said, messing her long brown hair up, as he pets her scalp.

"We will." Eli replied, smiling brightly at him.

ooOOoo

Zemo made his way downstairs as slowly as he could, he hung onto the railing for dear life with each step he took; it was a good thing they lived on the second floor.

As he walked outside, the fresh chilly air of October hit him, not too kindly, and he started walking until he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Tony yelled with a bright smile, he beckoned Zemo to come over to the car, the blonde nodding reluctantly as well.

"I thought you said I couldn't expect you to pick me up today." Zemo said, directing his statement to the brooding blonde.

"I'm an asshole, not heartless, besides, Tony made quite a case for you last night so I couldn't necessarily tell him 'no' after that." Steve said, making the brunette blush, surprisingly red, the reaction not escaping Zemo's watchful eyes, but he decided to ignore that as well. They were showing him a kindness, no need to assume anything substantial.

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness, and I'm glad that he was able to change your mind, with whatever he did." Zemo said, getting comfortable in the back seat.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Tony saves the day again. Let's change the subject, how are the bruises Zemo, I see the eye has only gotten darker." Tony said, turning around in his seat to face the German man.

"Oh, yes, all of them have. But there's nothing I can do about them but give them ice and time." Zemo said, with a hint of regret.

"Well said. But today is an exciting day, you get to formally begin working in assembly, I envy you because I never get to see how the car is made, I have no say-so." Tony said, energetically. He was bouncier than usual today.

"I'll try my best not to disappoint you then." Zemo replied. Giving Tony half a smile since the other side of his pain reacted badly to any sort of movement.

Tony cocked his head and gave him a sad smile, that on anybody else he would have hated, but on Tony, he particularly enjoyed to see.

Steve sat there, reminding himself that his jealousy was completely irrational, that Tony was just being genuinely nice to Zemo, and that nothing out of the ordinary was taking place; but the longer the ride went, the more he wanted to kick the other man out of his car. He didn't though, and they ultimately made it to the factory unscathed.

"You should fix your face, Steve darling, your envy is showing." Tony teased, trying hard to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed on Steve's forehead with his index finger. They were interrupted by a sudden hiss and a long line of expletives which sounded a lot harsher in the German tongue.

"Here, here, let me help you." Tony said, moving to the passenger side of the car.

"No, I can-

"No need to prove anything to me, big man, I know you're fully capable of taking care of yourself, I'm just simply offering my help." Tony said, grabbing one of Zemo's arms and supporting half his weight. Steve stood by the curb like a spoiled child until Tony looked at him expectantly. He sighed and went over to Zemo's other side to help him out of the car.

"There, I think you'll be able to walk now." Tony said, slowly letting go of the brunette until he hung to him for dear life. "Or not. Jesus, how bad is the bruising?" Tony asked. Steve let the man go in favor of locking his car.

"Pretty bad, one of the bruises covers my entire left side." Zemo said, playing up the pain just a little bit so he could hold onto Tony for longer. The man's natural warmth was oddly addicting and his personal nature made him unable to help himself in these sudden situations.

"Oh dear, come let's try to walk. You take it easy today okay, sit down when you have to and Steve would be more than happy to pick up your side of the work." Tony said, volunteering Steve's time (to the ultimate discontent of the blonde).

"No, that's… it's only when I move too roughly that my ribs start to act up, other than that I think I'll be okay today." Zemo replied, still hanging on to Tony as they slowly made their way towards the steps of the building and into the warmth of the factory.

They walked towards the locker-room, where the big-brute waited for them, he looked pleased with himself as he saw how beaten he had left Zemo.

"What's so funny? Do you think bullying him is going to make anything better?" Steve asked, surprising all of them. He wasn't too keen on the guy, sure, but he hated bullies even more.

"What did you say to me?" Jeffrey asked, getting all heated-up all over again. He had a short temper, as if you couldn't have already guessed.

"Oh yes, I forgot that ingrates like you have IQs lower than the temperature outside." Steve commented rolling his eyes. Tony had never seen his beloved so fired up before, it was one thing to see him jealous it was another to see him angry. He snuck Zemo past the crowd that formed and into their locker, glad they had that momentary distraction.

"You want to say that up-close and personal buddy?" Jeffrey said pushing his ugly face into Steve's direction. The blonde had a couple of inches (take that as you will) on him. Towering just enough to be threatening.

"I said you're a bully, the kind that gets dishonorably discharged from the army and doesn't have shit to their name." Steve said, whispering the last part into the man's ear. That took Jeffrey aback, since he was not expecting the blonde to be so blunt with his insults. Steve knew exactly where to trigger the man's anger though, and he drew back to punch Steve in the face but was caught unawares by Steve's quick reflexes and now Jeffrey was suddenly pinned to the locker in front of him, his arm painfully contorted to his back and his face pressed up against a lock.

All the other guys took a step back by Steve's sudden display of masculinity.

"Now see, if you would've spent more time paying attention to your Sargent instead of picking on the little guy, you wouldn't have been so quick to punch me." Steve said, painfully twisting the other guy's arm into his spine.

"Let me go, you traitor!" Jeffrey spat out, actually quite terrified that Steve would snap his arm in two. Tony was truly two parts impressed and one part petrified, he hadn't known the expertise of Steve's training, he realized now that the man was going incredibly easy on him.

"Now, that's not necessary, I'm not a traitor to anyone. You, on the other hand, are picking unnecessary battles. Now I'm going to let you go, but if you decide to swing at me again, you're going to regret it." Steve warned, all this time keeping a calm and almost light-hearted tone as he dealt with the brute.

Steve did as he promised, letting go slowly and taking a couple of steps back, ready to strike at any moment.

Jeffrey spat near Steve's feet, being quite mindful of how much distance he put between himself and the blonde. As soon as Steve turned around Jeffrey lunged for his neck, but Steve had been anticipating the subterfuge and he quickly stepped out of the way, unbalancing the idiot, and taking him by surprise as he took one of his arms and punched Jeffrey's face with his other. He ignored the pain in his crippled arm, as Jeffrey tried to wriggle his way free from his grip. The impact of Steve's fist hitting the other man's face was met with the aftermath of a satisfying crack as Jeffrey's nose broke, making the man even uglier than he was before; no one took a step forward to help the other guy as they all believed that the ensuing beating was well deserved. _Hypocrites_ , Steve thought as he beat the holy mackerel out of the other man.

Steve left the other man bleeding and bruising, he had intentionally avoided areas where his blows could have killed the man, but he had targeted specific targets where he'd feel it tomorrow morning and the days to come, which would make his life a living hell for walking, eating, breathing, etc.

Tony was actually more terrified now than he had been before of the blonde's power, but Zemo was incredibly impressed and charmed, he wasn't under the impression that Steve did that solely for him, but he was flattered nonetheless.

"Please, don't make me have to do this again. If you'd've learned how to stay down, you would've still been in the army." Steve said, picking himself up off the ground, leaving Jeffrey to fend for himself. He walked over to his locker, catching a glance at the look Tony gave him. The man was horrified, it made Steve do a double take and lower his head in shame as he opened his locker. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Why had he done that?

* * *

"I want to thank you for what you did today, Mr. Rogers." Zemo said halfway through their shift. Steve had noticed the change in the factory immediately, everyone either nodded in approval or moved quickly out of the way. They hadn't expected the handsome blonde to be such a lethal weapon. News had spread to Fury (by none other than Jeffrey) and the man only laughed, the hardest he had in years. That insulted Jeffrey more than anything and soon after that he was gone, taking with him the little morsel of dignity he had left. Steve and he had locked eyes for a second and Jeffrey had looked away like the true coward he was.

"I wasn't necessarily doing it for you, I just can't stand bullies," Steve said, as he placed the engine into the position so he could insert the necessary bolts.

"Whatever the reason, I am still appreciative. My little sister has become disillusioned with the world, says there are no more heroes, only men who crave destruction. I will tell her about you today, you may just restore her faith in the world." Zemo said, giving Steve high praise.

"Why, because I beat another man to a pulp?" Steve said, almost angry with himself for having done such a thing.

"Sometimes, a little bit of violence is necessary to get a point across," Zemo said, all too seriously.

"I wish it didn't have to be that way." Steve said, looking down at his hands, his knuckles were bloody and red from where he had punched the living hell out of Jeffrey. He hadn't meant to lose his top so easily, but with everything that had been going on this past week, he had to release some of the energy, a catharsis if you will.

"I think we all wish that, but deep down inside we crave destruction. It is the human way." Zemo replied, resuming his work. Steve looked at him skeptically, then shook his head. That's not true, it can't be, could it?

* * *

"Tony." Steve said as he caught the brunette in the locker room. The place was basically empty since everyone else was either at lunch or back to work.

"Steve," Tony replied, going for his locker.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, getting into Tony's personal space, it had bothered the ever-living-shit out of him to have Tony look at him the way he had, and Zemo's comment had bothered him even more. He had to apologize, even if it would not amend the damage that he'd caused.

"For?" Tony asked, nonplussed.

"For… for, I… I don't want you to see me as a monster, okay? I did what I did because I was angry, I just don't _like_ bullies and he was just _asking_ for it okay… I'm sorry. Please, don't look at me like that again?" Steve begged, caressing the brunette's face, he was really scared of losing Tony's trust by lowering himself to the level of the brute.

"Steve… that's not going to change my opinion of you, I know why you did it, and I don't blame you. If I could've I would've done the same, but I'm not equipped like you are… it just took me by surprise, is all." Tony said, giving Steve an encouraging smile so he'd stop looking like a kicked puppy.

"You mean it?" Steve asked, getting closer to the brunette.

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't." Tony almost said in a whisper as they slowly inched closer to each other. They couldn't close the space, however, as Zemo made his way and stopped halfway through, his eyes bugging out of his head, when he saw the two.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked in an accusatory tone to Steve, thinking fast he tried to come up with the best-case excuse and hopefully Steve would have enough sense to play along.

"I-ah, ah I, er…" Steve said, at a loss for words.

"Get off me god-damn it, what did you want in my locker?" Tony asked, pushing the blonde away from him as if his mere presence offended him.

"I, I wanted my jacket… I let you borrow it the other day-

"Then say that, god-damn it, don't just reach around for it!" Tony said, stepping out of the way so Steve could pretend to rummage through his stuff for his jacket. He was finally playing along, though poorly.

"Hi, Zemo." Tony said, offhandedly, as he put his arms around his hips and turned to face the brunette with an insufferable look on his face as if to say 'can you believe this guy?'

"Hello, Tony." Zemo said, his eyes now narrowed. "I was just trying to get my work gloves; I seem to have forgotten them in there. I have to return them to the proper bin since I no longer work in parts-

"Found them," Steve said, pulling them out and putting them on the bench for the brunette to grab.

"Found your jacket yet, Steve?" Tony asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"It seems that you may have returned it already, because I can't seem to find it." Steve said, awkwardly stepping away to his own locker, under the close scrutiny of the smaller of the three.

"I thought I had." Tony said, almost in a trancelike state as he recalled the moment all those weeks ago back in his apartment. Had it only been weeks? It felt like decades.

"Hmm, well yes, I'll just go back to work. See you two later." Steve said, gracelessly maneuvering through the both of them.

"He's a weird one, ignore him." Tony advised.

"Yes… I will." Zemo said, now more interested than ever to find out just exactly _who_ Tony Stark was.

* * *

The days went by and they were finally at the end of October. In his bedroom, Steve walked over to the large window and noticed the harsh rain hitting the glass as he got closer. He touched the cool surface, noticing how it fogged around his fingers. It would snow soon…

He tried to shake off that feeling but couldn't get rid of the last tendrils of his thoughts, they always stayed with him for a couple of hours, reminding him of darker times. He heard the random rustling from the bed, which signaled Tony was waking.

The brunette searched around with his hand for the loss of warmth and noticed the empty space beside him. He opened his eyes, his heart hammering until he realized the blonde was over by the window, looking almost like an apparition the way the moonlight encompassed his frame.

"What time is it?" Tony asked, rubbing his eyes and blinking a couple of times to get rid of the stars. "What the hell are you doing out of bed?"

"It's about four thirty in the morning. And I was just looking at the rain, it's going to be terrible today." Steve said, looking back.

"Well, it's a good thing we don't have to go to work today. Get back in bed, it's getting cold again." Tony begged, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"I can start the fire if you'd like," Steve said, moving towards the fireplace.

"I'd rather have you as my personal heater," Tony said, coquettishly. He didn't know why, but in the early hours of the morning, he would get incredibly amorous with Steve. Maybe it was because they slept together like husband and wife, which gave Tony pause and raised the question, what was he in this relationship?

"Oh? Let me just turn on the fire in case my body is not enough." Steve said, rolling his eyes.

The warm glow of the fire erupted then, giving the room a romantic glow, the warmth was welcoming, but not overbearing, and as Steve made his way back to the bed, Tony snuggled close to him and buried his head in the crook of Steve's neck.

"What am I to you?" Tony asked, suddenly.

"You're my everything," Steve replied without hesitation.

"That's not possibly true," Tony said, slapping Steve's right breast lightly.

"It is, as much as an exaggeration as that may be, I do feel it in my heart that without you, I'd die," Steve said, only half-joking.

"Well, now you've burdened me with the responsibility to keep both you and me alive," Tony said.

"I'll try to help as best as I can," Steve said, bringing Tony closer into a tight squeeze.

"Tell me about Bucky," Tony whispered softly into the nape of Steve's neck, giving him mixed sensations of pleasure from the shivers and pain from the name.

"What is there to say? He was my best friend and the most courageous person I've ever met. He didn't deserve to die the way he did, none of them did." Steve said, shaking his head from the dark memories he's tried so hard to suppress.

"Who was he before the war, who were you?" Tony asked, trying to streamline the conversation in a direction that wouldn't cause sorrow.

"That's a good question. He'd lost both his parents when he was very young and lived with his rich aunt in Romania for a couple of years after that. He moved back to America when he was about ten… and that's how we met." Steve said, omitting a huge part of just _how_ they met.

"Just like that?" Tony asked, skeptical.

"Just like that," Steve assured.

"So how did you become friends?" Tony asked, continuing his train of thought.

"Oh, well, when I was very young I was nothing but sticks and bones and he was just strange, so the other kids would pick fights with the both of us since we didn't know how to keep our mouths shut. It was just a coincidence that we were stuck together in one of the janitor closets at our… um, school and so we had a couple of hours to kill before one of the teachers came to break us out. Needless to say, we bonded and became great friends after that." Steve explained, tiptoeing over the details. He didn't necessarily divulge that part of his past to anyone, only select few people knew about it and one of them was dead.

"So is that the reason you hate bullies so much?" Tony inquired, remembering something Steve had said about a week ago.

"Part of the reason, yes, the other is that bullies are just not pleasant people." Steve said.

"Amen to that." Tony replied.

"Any more impromptu questions?" Steve asked, looking to the top of his beloved's head.

"Hmm, no, I think you've quenched my curiosity a bit… for now anyway," Tony said, snuggling deeper into the warmth that was Steve's embrace.

"For now, he says." Steve repeated, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Zemo awoke one morning, two weeks after his beating with the realization that he wanted desperately to be closer to Tony than he currently was. It came so suddenly that he had to take a step back. His sister even looked at him with some form of surprise at his sudden behavior.

He tried to shake off the feeling, but there had been something in Tony's eyes when he had caught both he and Steve in that compromising position, that he hadn't quite gotten out of his head.

So he used his natural affinity to become invisible to anyone and tried his hardest to find out more. He could tell he was a nuisance to the blonde, but the other brunette didn't seem to mind. As he constantly asked for Zemo's condition and how he felt each day as he recuperated. Most of the bruises had faded and the larger ones didn't hurt as much as they had, but he played up the pain each time Tony asked and to his pleasure (and the blonde's disdain) he'd let Tony touch him whenever he asked (he sometimes encouraged it as a means to get the brunette closer).

But as he healed, he was running out of excuses, so he had to resort to being there, constantly. Something that Mr. Rogers had not overlooked. He wondered what their relationship was. He hadn't bought the whole charade they'd played that one time he walked into them doing… well, he didn't have enough evidence to pinpoint if they were going to commit any sort of 'crime' or not.

They'd been a lot more careful since then, keeping a safe distance and being only a little too friendly at times. But nothing completely out of the ordinary.

It was only his luck that he was walking towards the make-shift infirmary to return the bandages that he'd borrowed for the gash he'd created on his hand when he'd grazed it on one of the metallic parts, that he stumbled upon the blonde and the brunette in an intense lip-lock session. It was as if they were almost angry with each other, they were kissing so hard. Zemo pressed himself against the wall in order to spy on them in complete darkness and silence.

"Steve, Steve, stop!" Tony said, pushing the blonde away quickly and looking around for anyone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just, I can't wait, not for so long. 12 hours is a nightmare for me, not being able to touch or kiss you." Steve said, getting closer once more.

"Steve, this is the riskiest thing we could both do. Can't you just wait some more before we get home?" Tony asked, his big brown eyes pleading with the blonde.

"I will, I guess I have to. But if I must wait any longer than that, I'm gonna' explode." He said, sneaking a final kiss out of Tony's mouth.

Zemo didn't need to stay for the epilogue; he dashed quickly into the nearest room, which turned out to be a supply closet and tried to process what he'd just seen. So they were both… he would've never guessed it from the big blonde, but people can surprise you sometimes.

Oh god, what was he going to do now? There was no way in hell he could get close to Tony if the blonde was his center of attention.

* * *

For the last couple of days in October Zemo was running out of ideas as to how he would manage to take Tony's attention away from Steve and point it towards him.

He was desperately pacing the locker room late that night, when Tony walked in, surprising him the most.

"Zemo, are you okay?" Tony asked, removing his gloves and putting them into his locker, he was taking an impromptu break, seeing as the parts that had come in today were mismatched and he'd had it up to here to try and fix them all. He'd done all he could, he'd pick them up later, it was close to the end of his shift anyway.

"I, Tony I just-

"Hey, hey calm down." Tony urged as Zemo collapsed on the bench, his entire body slumped over in defeat. He couldn't compete with the blonde. He could never compete with the blonde!

"I'm sorry Tony." Zemo said, dry heaving into his arms.

"What's wrong? You're scaring me now, did someone hurt you?" Tony asked, looking around for the culprit or any signs of assault.

"You've always been so nice to me, so kind, you've saved me from doing unspeakable things, you've saved my sister as well. I just-

"Hey, don't worry about that, it's all over now, he left and he won't hurt you again. And I'm not quite sure what I did, but I was only trying to help you as best as I could. It was not fair of them to misjudge you so quickly." Tony said, cutting Zemo off before he began to cry.

"Oh Tony, how can you be so kind to a complete stranger?" Zemo asked staring at the brunette's brown eyes, trying to find some of that fire that he'd seen only in glimpses.

"We're not strangers, we're friends. At least I think so." Tony said, saying the most consoling thing at the moment.

"Tony I-

"Listen, whatever is bothering you, you need to let it go. Throw it away, and start fresh. You're a hard worker and you're more than capable of standing up for yourself, I believe that you can, so please don't cry." Tony begged, he didn't know how to deal with tears at the moment, enough tears he'd shed in his opinion.

"Tony," Zemo whispered, taking the man's advice and letting go of his restraints; he pushed himself suddenly on Tony's mouth, kissing him ever-so-clumsily; kind-of like when Steve did it, but without that added passion (on Tony's part).

Tony had to take a second to process just what the hell was happening. Woah, woah, woah, woah, how many people like him existed in this one setting?

He had to gently push Zemo back and away from his mouth. "As flattered as I am by the sentiment, I can't retaliate. I'm not-

"Don't lie to me. I saw you with Mr. Rogers, so you can stop right there." Zemo said, nipping the lie in the bud before Tony even had a chance to formulate it. The brunette wasn't even surprised, he knew someone would step in on them one of these days, it was just a good thing it had been Zemo instead of anyone else that might try to call the police.

"So you know then that I can't continue this with you," Tony said, he knew that as soon as he said that, he broke something within Zemo. It was in the way his eyes suddenly shifted into a darker shade and his composure twitched as if he'd been slapped. "I'm sorry, it's not that you're not attractive-

"Save me the pity talk, I understand," Zemo said, standing up and moving to the back of the room where a small window showed the descending sun in the sky.

"I'm sorry," Tony said, in a bit of shock from what just happened.

"No I am, more than you know," Zemo whispered into the sky-turned-night. His right hand balled into a fist and an idea finally sprung into his previously-empty mind.

Zemo would never be Steve Rogers, that was a fact, but maybe if the blonde weren't in the equation, he'd have a greater chance of replacing him. He wasn't about the kill the blonde, he wasn't a maniac, but he knew that there had to be something that made Steve tick, he'd just have to wait for that moment and figure out what it was.

"Zemo?" Tony asked, a bit frightened by the sudden shift in atmosphere, it was as if something big were coming.

"It will be alright, in the end, Tony, we'll be alright," Zemo promised, not turning around to face the other brunette.

"I hope so," Tony replied, putting his gloves back on and looked at Zemo's back one last time, before retreating to his own job.

"Next time…" Zemo promised, looking at the dying sun for last time before he too returned to his work. With renewed determination in his heart and a plan in mind, nothing would stop him. Nothing at all.

* * *

 **A/N: Well hell, it seems that Tony's quite the infectious agent. First Steve, now Zemo, who else, Bucky Barnes? (Yeah, right, like that could ever happen. [Bitch, it might lol])**

 **Thank you for reading, please leave a review telling me how you're enjoying it so far, we're getting incredibly close to the end of part 1, so yeah…**

 **19th Sep. 2018 Hello from the great beyond! I'm here, about two years later to let you know I haven't forgotten this, but goodness does it need to be rewritten, I'm thinking about the end of 2019 it should be fixed (to the best of my abilities) and finished. If you're still interested or are brand new, thank you for sticking around so long!**


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